Chapter II: The Soldier

FOR several days Mrs. Frost was very ill. The doctor came regularly morning and evening, and pronounced her case a critical one. Mrs. Dobbs looked pale and careworn; Jane, sorrowful, and Helen, with an increasing weight on her conscience, peevish and irritable.

The poor girl believed that her conduct had induced the old woman's sickness, and might be the means of her death; but this she kept strictly in her own breast, only replying to Jane's constant inquiries, "I am homesick."

At length the worst symptoms began to abate. The invalid's appetite returned, and hope was entertained that she would recover from this attack.

Mrs. Dobbs was unwearied in her care and tenderness. Mr. Dobbs searched the market for game and other dainties to tempt the palate of his sick guest. Jennie ran up and down stairs with new alacrity; sacrificing her own wishes to the happiness of the old woman. Helen only remained gloomy and restless.

"What can it mean?" she asked herself one day, when she overheard Mrs. Dobbs praising the servants for their ready assistance during their late affliction, adding that five dollars had been added to the credit of each of them. "What reason have they for treating her so well? If it was their own mother, they couldn't do more."

Since that eventful day when she had gone uninvited into the sick room, she had never entered there; but now, one morning, Jane came running to find her, saying, "Grandma Frost asked for you; she wants to see you!"

"I wont go!" exclaimed Helen, blushing violently. "If you and your family choose to run at her beck and call, you may; but I sha'n't."

"Why, Helen!" cried her friend, regarding her with surprise. "What does make you so prejudiced against grandma?"

"Who is in there?" inquired the young girl, without replying.

"Nobody now. Mother's lying down. You know she watched again last night, and grandma is as kind and pleasant as possible. I never knew anybody so changed. Come, do go up with me."

"What do you suppose she wants me for?"

"For nothing particular. She asked whether you were here yet, and then said she would like to see you."

Helen rose without a word and followed her friend to the chamber.

The old woman fixed her sharp eyes a moment upon Helen's face, then smiled as she held out her hand.

"I'm sorry you've been so sick," faltered the young girl in a scarcely articulate tone.

In truth she was greatly shocked. She could scarcely breathe. The sight of that haggard face, and those sunken eyes, so affected her, that she longed to run from the room.

Still holding her hand, the old woman said, "Jennie tells me you read beautifully; will you read a chapter for me?"

"In a minute, I will." Poor girl! she felt it absolutely necessary for her to breathe the air, she was so stifled. She ran down the stairs, and did not stop until she had reached the arbor.

"Oh! how sick she does look!" she cried out, "What if she should die? I never, never will give way to my temper again! But I must go back; I can't stay here. I must go and read to her."

Mrs. Dobbs had arisen from her couch to give the invalid her medicine. When Helen entered, she noticed a slight flush on her patient's countenance, and moved her hand that the young girl had better retire.

"I want her here," said Mrs. Frost, with her sharp ringing tone. "I want to tell her, and to tell you, Miss Dobbs, and you, Jane, that if I am cross and impatient, I do thank you for your kindness and forbearance."

Her voice trembled as she added, "You must forgive an old heart-broken woman for her peevishness and impatience; but never think I don't realize how much you and yours have done to comfort me; no, don't think that."

Mrs. Dobbs gazed in surprise at the sick woman, and then at Helen's flushed cheeks.

"There is something here which I do not understand," she said to herself; "but this is not the time to inquire about it."

In the evening, Jane happened to be sitting with Helen in the parlor, when Mrs. Dobbs entered.

After a moment, Jane said, "Mother, will you please to tell Helen about Jotham? She can't understand, why we have grandma here, and do so much for her."

"With pleasure, my dear; though it is a sad story." She drew her sewing from the basket, and began.

"It was near the commencement of the dreadful war which is now desolating our country, that your father considered it his duty to enlist. He joined a regiment then forming in —; and after arranging his business as speedily as possible, left for the camp. Here he remained for, several weeks, expecting soon to be ordered to Washington, when one evening a messenger came; requesting his immediate presence in the city, on account of trouble in his store. The head clerk had absconded with money and notes to a large amount. Unless some vigorous measures were taken, the labor and savings of a whole life would be sacrificed. I was greatly distressed, and knew not what to do. I went to my chamber, and endeavored to throw my burden upon one who has promised to aid his suffering children. All at once I determined to send to one of our neighbors for a young man, and get him to go to the camp."

"Jotham Frost was the only child of the sick woman up-stairs. At that time she was in good health, earning a comfortable support by her own exertions. Jotham had, from a child, been often employed in our family,—sometimes to pick strawberries, sometimes to run of errands, and of later years as groom. He was extremely fond of horses, and had a peculiar faculty for managing them."

"On the night I speak of, he at once signified his willingness to proceed to L—, and carry a letter to his master."

"The next evening, Mr. Dobbs reached home. But he was so changed I scarcely knew him. Camp life had proved unfavorable to his health, and he now and then startled me by a dry, hollow cough. Then he had passed the whole day in the city, trying to straighten out his affairs, and assist the police who were in pursuit of the wicked clerk. He retired to bed, but he could not sleep. He rose, and, going into the next room, began to pace the floor. Then I heard his voice in prayer. I joined him and kneeled by his side. He was beseeching his heavenly Father to make known to him the path of duty. 'If my country demands of me this sacrifice,—my health; my life; my property,—if it is thy will, O God! help me to submit cheerfully. I give it all into thy hands, lead me by thy finger.'"

"After this he retired to bed and slept peacefully for several hours."

"When we went to breakfast, and a sad meal it was, I saw Jotham busy in the yard with the horses. I noticed that he kept looking toward the window, and throwing up the sash I spoke to him.

"'I want to see Mr. Dobbs, afore he leaves the house!' he said eagerly."

"We went through the form of eating, and then once more committed ourselves and all our anxieties to God."

"Your father then went out to see Jotham. I stood gazing abstractedly from the window, and I wondered what could be the subject of conversation. We often ask God to help us, and then we wonder at his readiness to do so. While we had been speaking God had heard. But of this I knew nothing at the time. I saw Jotham growing every moment more earnest and excited. I witnessed my husband's motion of dissent again and again; then they came quickly toward the house, but passed the door and went toward the cottage of Mrs. Frost."

"I cannot tell you yet what an hour that was which followed to the poor, lone widow. I knew nothing of it at the time. At the end of it my husband and Jotham came back together. The young man was dressed in his Sunday suit, and looked bright and handsome. There was a light in his eye I had never noticed before."

"'Put the black mare into the open buggy as quickly as possible,' said my husband in an excited tone, 'and I'll be ready.'"

"I couldn't account for it, but he seemed anxious to avoid my eye. He made some hurried changes in his dress, then was about to leave the room, but turned and pressed me in his arms, whispering, 'Pray for me to-day, Mary; put your trust in God and hope for the best.'"

"His tone was so earnest that I began to weep. I had not the slightest suspicion what he was about to do. The day passed wearily enough. Had I known that my nearest neighbor was crying her very life away, I should have tried to comfort her. Many, many times I retired to my closet and asked my Father in heaven to prosper my dear husband in his endeavors to arrange his business; and if trial were before us, to help us submit cheerfully to his will."

"It was nearly dusk when I heard the sound of wheels; and, rushing to the door, saw my husband sitting by the side of Widow Frost, while Jotham walked proudly up the yard by them. He took his mother in his arms and set her upon the steps, while Mr. Dobbs called a servant to take away the horse, and then followed them into the house."

"'Call Jane and Thomas,' he said to me. 'I want to see you all in the parlor.'"