How he won herSouthworth, Emma Dorothy Eliza Nevitte
General
How he won her
Southworth, Emma Dorothy Eliza Nevitte
American fiction -- 19th century
“No, you dare not withhold it,” said the clergyman. “It is your solemn
duty to go to the Provost Marshal, and tell him exactly what you have
told me. It will be for him to judge whether there is sufficient cause
for pursuing and arresting this miserable young woman.”
“It is one of the most repugnant duties I ever had to perform. Oh, the
office of a spy or an informer is very, very abhorrent to my feelings.
And she was my old schoolmate, and friend and guest. Ah, it is very
bitter!” said Erminie, trembling with emotion.
“I know how hard it is, my child. But if you should not perform this
duty, think what might happen. Erminie, my dear, next to our duty to God
is our duty to our country, and neither friends, guests nor kinsfolk
should stand between us and that. Now, go get your bonnet on, my child,
and I will myself attend you to the Provost Marshal’s office to lodge
this information,” said Dr. Sales.
And Erminie, feeling as miserably as she had ever felt in her life, went
obediently to prepare herself, thanking Heaven, in the meantime, that
Alberta was no longer in her house.
When she was quite ready she came down. And she and her pastor set out
for the Provost Marshal’s office.
Meanwhile Elfie waited for her hostess. But when she saw Erminie,
attended by Dr. Sales, leave the house, she lost all patience,
exclaiming:
“Well, really, people in this place never seem to know when other people
ought to eat. Catherine, bring in the pudding.” Elfie finished her
dinner, and rang the bell for the parlor maid. Catherine came in.
“Here, you remove these things, and tell Frederica that Miss Rosenthal
has gone out without her dinner, and direct her to have a young chicken
ready for the gridiron, and to keep the kettle on the fire and make some
toast. Miss Rosenthal having missed her dinner, will require something
warm with her tea.”
“Very well, Miss,” answered acquiescent Catherine.
And Elfie arose rather impatiently and passed into the library, where
the gas was now lighted, and flung herself into one of the easy chairs,
exclaiming crossly:
“Plague take the people, I do wish they would let poor Minie have some
peace of her life. From her early rising to her late retiring, she has
not one hour to herself, poor child. She is at everybody’s beck and
call. And between the wounded soldiers in the hospitals and the refugees
from the South, and the contrabands, and—bless patience—yes, the
guerrillas, too, she is harrassed almost to death, poor girl. And now
where on earth has the old parson taken her? I declare she doesn’t even
get time to eat!”
So grumbled Elfie, unable to settle herself to any sort of employment.
After awhile she again rang the bell, and brought Catherine to her
presence.
“You may lay the cloth for tea in this room. It is more comfortable than
the dining-room. And you must have everything ready for Miss Rosenthal
by the time she returns.”
“What time do you expect her, please, Miss Fielding?” inquired the girl.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account