The Trials of the Soldier's Wife: A Tale of the Second American RevolutionAbrams, Alex. St. Clair (Alexander St. Clair)
History
The Trials of the Soldier's Wife: A Tale of the Second American Revolution
Abrams, Alex. St. Clair (Alexander St. Clair)
Confederate States of America -- Fiction; United States -- History -- Civil War, 1861-1865 -- Fiction
In the parlor of an elegant resident on Main street, a beautiful girl
was sitting with an open book in her hand. She was not, however,
reading, as her bright blue eyes rested not on the pages, but were
gazing at the half-opened door, as if expecting the arrival of some
one. While she is thus musing, we will endeavour to give a description
of the fair maiden. Fancy a slight and elegant figure, richly dressed
in a robe of _moire antique_, from under the folds of which the
daintiest little feet imaginable could be seen. Her features, though
not regularly carved, made her, at the name time, very beautiful,
while her bright blue eyes and rich golden hair, braided smooth to her
forehead, and ornamented with a jewelled tiara, then much worn, lent
additional charm to her appearance. Her hands were small, and as
Byron, we think, has it, was an undoubted mark of gentle birth.
She remained in this reverie for some time, but was at last aroused by
the entrance, unannounced, of a handsome young man dressed in the
uniform of a lieutenant, when she started up, and meeting him, said in
a half-vexed, half-playful tone:
"Oh, Harry! why did you not come earlier? I have been waiting for your
arrival over an hour!"
"Excuse me, dearest," he answered. "I was just on the point of
starting from my office when I received a mass of orders from
regimental headquarters, which detained me until a few minutes ago.
You must, therefore," he continued, "excuse me for this once, and I
shall not offend again," and as he spoke he parted the hair from her
forehead and pressed a kiss upon her lips.
"I forgive you for this time," she answered, playfully tapping him on
the shoulder with her fan; "but the next offence I will not be so
likely to excuse."
"I will take good care not to offend again, then," he laughingly said.
The conversation continued for some time in this light way, which
lovers will sometimes indulge in, when, assuming a serious
countenance, she spoke to him:
"When does your regiment leave for Virginia?"
"I hardly know," he replied, "if it will go to Virginia at all. The
Colonel informs me that it is likely the regiment will be sent to
Tennessee; so if it is sent there, I will be nearer than you thought."
"What a horrid thing war is!" she said, without appearing to notice
his last remarks.
"You are not inclined to show the white feather now, are you?" he
said, laughing.
Her bright blue eyes sparkled for a moment, as if repudiating the
question; then lowering them she answered: "No, indeed. I would not
have a single one that I love remain at home while the Abolitionists
are invading our homes."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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