Mrs. Jocelyn drooped in her husband's absence, for every year had
increased her sense of dependence. She felt somewhat like one who
is drifting on a wreck. If the sea would only remain calm, all might
be well; but the sea never is at rest very long, and if storms,
dangers, and emergencies occurred what would she do?
Each day that passed without word from her husband grew longer,
and when at last a letter came it was vague and unsatisfactory.
He hoped he was better; he hoped to find a foothold; and then came
again several days of silence which were almost as oppressive to
Mildred as to herself.
Meanwhile their funds were failing fast, and they both felt that
they ought not to sell anything else for mere living expenses.
More critical emergencies might arise and find them destitute. If
Mr. Jocelyn should become seriously ill in the South, they must be
in a position to have him cared for and brought home. Mildred with
extreme reluctance was compelled to face the necessity of giving
up her studies so that she might earn something at once. She had
about decided to reveal her troubles to Miss Wetheridge, when a
hasty note from her friend swept away all immediate chance of aid
in that direction. "The gentleman to whom I was soon to be married,"
she wrote, "has not been strong for a year past, and a few days
since he was taken with a hemorrhage from his lungs. His physician
ordered him to go immediately to Nassau. In accordance with our
mutual wishes we were married quietly in the presence of a few
relatives, and by the time this note reaches you we shall be on our
way to the South. My heart is burdened with anxiety, and my hourly
prayer is that God will spare the life of one so dear to me. I wish
I could see you before I sail, but it is impossible. I have had to
leave almost everything undone. Write me often."
This note threw Mildred on her own resources. She felt that Mr.
Wentworth could do little for her beyond certifying to her character,
for he was the pastor of a congregation of which a large proportion
were as poor as herself. There was naught to do but go to work like
the others in uncomplaining silence and earn her bread.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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