United States -- History -- Civil War, 1861-1865 -- Fiction
"Dear, conscience-stricken old aunty!" said Graham, smiling at her.
"Will nothing ever lay your theological ghosts?"
"No, Alford," she said, gravely. "Let us change the subject."
"I've told Major St. John everything from the day I first came here,"
Graham explained; "and now before we separate let it be understood that
he joins us as a powerful ally. His influence over Grace, after all, is
more potent than that of all the rest of us united. My words to-night
have acted more like a shock than anything else. I have placed before
her clearly and sharply the consequences of yielding passively, and of
drifting further toward darkness. We must possess ourselves with an
almost infinite patience and vigilance. She, after all, must bear the
brunt of this fight with death; but we must be ever on hand to give her
support, and it must be given also unobtrusively, with all the tact we
possess. We can let her see that we are more cheerful in our renewed
hope, but we must be profoundly sympathetic and considerate."
"Well, Graham, as I said before, you are captain. I learned to obey
orders long ago as well as to give them;" and the major summoned his
valet and bade them goodnight.
Graham, weary in the reaction from his intense feeling and excitement,
threw himself on the sofa, and his aunt came and sat beside him.
"Alford," she said, "what an immense change your coming has made!"
"The beginning of a change, I hope."
"It was time--it was time. A drearier household could scarcely be
imagined. Oh, how dreary life can become! Grace was dying. Every day I
expected tidings of your death. It's a miracle that you are alive after
all these bloody years. All zest in living had departed from the major.
We are all materialists, after our own fashion, wholly dependent on
earthly things, and earthly things were failing us. In losing Grace,
you and the major would have lost everything; so would I in losing you.
Alford, you have become a son to me. Would you break a mother's heart?
Can you not still promise to live and do your best?"
"Dear aunt, we shall all live and do our best."
"Is that the best you can say, Alford?"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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