The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 04, No. 25, November, 1859: A Magazine of Literature, Art, and PoliticsVarious
History
The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 04, No. 25, November, 1859: A Magazine of Literature, Art, and Politics
Various
American periodicals
At the table we were graver than common. The high chair was set back
against the wall, and a gap left between that of the young girl and her
nearest neighbor's on the right. But the nest morning, to our great
surprise, that good-looking young Marylander had very quietly moved his
own chair to the vacant place. I thought he was creeping down that way,
but I was not prepared for a leap spanning such a tremendous
parenthesis of boarders as this change of position included. There was
no denying that the youth and maiden were a handsome pair, as they sat
side by side. But whatever the young girl may have thought of her new
neighbor, she never seemed for a moment to forget the poor little
friend who had been taken from her side. There are women, and even
girls, with whom it is of no use to talk. One might as well reason with
a bee as to the form of his cell, or with an oriole as to the
construction of his swinging nest, as try to stir these creatures from
their own way of doing their own work. It was not a question with Iris,
whether she was entitled by any special relation or by the fitness of
things to play the part of a nurse. She was a wilful creature that must
have her way in this matter. And it so proved that it called for much
patience and long endurance to carry through the duties, say rather the
kind offices, the painful pleasures, that she had chosen as her share
in the household where accident had thrown her. She had that genius of
ministration which is the special province of certain women, marked
even among their helpful sisters by a soft, low voice, a quiet
footfall, a light hand, a cheering smile, and a ready self-surrender to
the objects of their care, which such trifles as their own food, sleep,
or habits of any kind never presume to interfere with.
Day after day, and too often through the long watches of the night, she
kept her place by the pillow.--That girl will kill herself over me,
Sir,--said the poor Little Gentleman to me, one day,--she will kill
herself, Sir, if you don't call in all the resources of your art to get
me off as soon as may be. I shall wear her out, Sir, with sitting in
this close chamber and watching when she ought to be sleeping, if you
leave me to the care of Nature without dosing me.
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