The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 10, No. 59, September, 1862: A Magazine of Literature, Art, and PoliticsVarious
History
The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 10, No. 59, September, 1862: A Magazine of Literature, Art, and Politics
Various
American periodicals
He went out. Very gently he entered the place of the soulless one. I
heard a low, murmurous sound, with a deal of contentment in it. After a
few moments they came out. He asked me again to carry the lamp. I went
up before them. I couldn't go after; I was afraid of words, or I knew
not what, coming from that room.
Mr. Axtell gave the second powder, evidently afraid to trust me. Miss
Lettie seemed quite tranquil,--a change had come over her. Her brother
poured a cup of coffee and _told_ me to drink it. What right had he to
tell me to do anything? What right had I to notice it amid the scenes of
this night? but I did, and the coffee remained untasted.
"I cannot trust you alone," he said; and leaving me sitting there in
Miss Lettie's chair before the fire, he lay down upon the lounge and
went to sleep.
The half-hour went by; this time I would remember my duty. Miss Axtell
was awake still, but very quiet. Her face was scorched with fever, when
I gave her the third powder. I began to feel excessively sleepy; but to
fail the second time,--it would never answer. The coffee was the
alternative; I drank of it.
Again Miss Axtell asked that I would bathe her head. That, with the
half-hour powders, which quite forgot their sleep-bestowing
characteristic, was the only change until the day began to dawn.
Katie crept in with it, all in the little shivers March mornings bring.
She didn't see Mr. Axtell. She asked,--
"How has Miss Lettie been?"
"I haven't been asleep, I believe," answered Miss Axtell.
She called Katie to her, and gave some house-orders, in which I thought
I heard an allusion to breakfast, in connection with my name. I knew
nothing about the arrangements of this house, but ventured to follow
Katie out, and ask if there was any one to take my place, should I go
home. Finding that my longer stay was unneedful, I went. How lovely the
earth seemed on that morning, not long ago, and yet so long! Why could
not people live with quiet thoughts, and peaceful quietness of life, in
this little country-village, where there seemed nothing to wake up
torrents?
* * * * *
Sophie stood beside me, with a tempting little cup in her hand; upon the
table lay a breakfast,--for somebody destined, I was sure.
"I thought I'd waken you, so that you might not lose your night's
sleep," she said.
"Thank you. What time is it?"
"Look at what the sun says."
She put up the shade, and the sun came in from the west.
"So long? Have I slept?"
"So long, my dear"; and Sophie gave me a kiss.
Sophie was not demonstrative. I answered it with--
"What queer people you sent me to stay with!"
"You make a mistake, Anna; think a moment; you're dreaming; I did not
send you there at all."
"Well, what queer people I went to stay with!"
"How was Miss Axtell, when you came away?"
"Really, I don't know; better, I should think. But, Sophie, pray tell me
how it is that I should never have heard of them before."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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