United States -- History -- Civil War, 1861-1865 -- Fiction
Too little allowance is often made for those in her condition. The
strong man smiles half contemptuously at the efforts of one who is
feeble to lift a trifling weight. Still, he is charitable. He knows
that if the man has not the muscle, all is explained. So material are
the conceptions of many that they have no patience with those who have
been enfeebled in mind, will, and courage. Such persons would say, "Of
course Mrs. Hilland cannot attend to her household as before; but she
ought to have faith, resignation; she ought to make up her mind
cheerfully to submit, and she would soon be well. Great heavens!
haven't other women lost their husbands? Yes, indeed, and they worried
along quite comfortably."
Graham took no such superficial view. "Other women" were not Grace. He
was philosophical, and tried to estimate the effect of her own peculiar
experience on her own nature, and was not guilty of the absurdity of
generalizing. It was his problem to save Grace as she was, and not as
some good people said she ought to be. Still, his firm belief remained,
that she could live if she would comply with what he believed to be the
conditions of life; indeed, that she could scarcely help living. If the
time could come when her brain would be nourished by an abundance of
healthful blood, he might hope for almost anything. She would then be
able to view the past dispassionately, to recognize that what _was
past_ was gone forever, and to see the folly of a grief which wasted
the present and the future. If she never became strong enough for
that--and the prospect was only a faint, half-acknowledged hope--then
he would reverently worship a patient, gentle, white-haired woman, who
should choose her own secluded path, he being content to make it as
smooth and thornless as possible.
Beyond a brief absence at the time his regiment was mustered out of the
service, he was always at home, and the allies against death--with
their several hopes, wishes, and interests--worked faithfully. At last
there was a more decided response in the patient. Her sleep became
prolonged, as if she were making amends for the weariness of years.
Skilful tonic treatment told on the wasted form. New blood was made,
and that, in Graham's creed, was new life.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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