The Coward: A Novel of Society and the Field in 1863Morford, Henry
History
The Coward: A Novel of Society and the Field in 1863
Morford, Henry
United States -- History -- Civil War, 1861-1865 -- Fiction
The voice and whole manner of the mother were much more amiable than they
had been at any time since the rising of her daughter from the sofa; for
nothing seemed to restore the tone of her agitated feeling like references,
from whatever source, to her wealth and position.
"A hundred thousand. There is not nearly enough, then!" The words were half
muttered, but Mrs. Burton Hayley distinctly heard them. And she saw
something on the face of the young girl which she by no means understood,
as the latter drew from her bosom the lower ends of the gold chain
depending there, and unclasped the back of a rather large and very thick
locket, the front of which presented a miniature in ivory of the handsome,
well-whiskered and pleasant-looking Mr. Burton Hayley, her deceased father.
Though she raised the locket to her lips and kissed it reverently, that
something on the face had not changed when she took from its unsuspected
concealment a small slip of newspaper, neatly folded and of size enough to
contain some twenty or thirty lines of small type. The mother's eyes were
by this time wide open with astonishment and partial fear that her daughter
had lost her wits in the agitation of that day. The paper looked old and
yellow. Margaret unrolled it and said:
"Mother, here is something that I have carried with me night and day for
five years past. I found it at that time, when clipping old newspapers in
the attic, for my scrap-book. I marked the date on the back--it is eighteen
years old, and the paper was a Harrisburgh one of that time. Have you your
glasses with you, or shall I read it?"
"Why, child, are you crazy? What has that slip of paper to do with the
subject of which we were talking?"
"Perhaps you can tell quite as well as myself, after I read it," answered
Margaret. And she moved nearer to the one unshuttered window of the parlor,
to secure a better light for the small type and dingy paper, the face of
her mother gradually changing, meanwhile, from the surprise which had
filled it, to a whiteness which seemed born of terror. Margaret read:
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.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account