“Nothing to speak of. May I help you get breakfast? What can I do?”
“You may set the table, if you will. Brother William is bringing candles; I am glad of that, for I could scarcely tell meal from sugar in this light.”
The three busied themselves in preparing the simple meal and ate it with a heartiness which long fasting supplied. “There are more fires lighted; I believe every building of any importance has been set fire to,” said Lettice, dolefully. “And to think of being in the midst of all this dreadful time! I am so thankful for this rain; maybe it will put out the fires. It does seem as if a special providence had sent it. Isn’t it a terrible storm! Why, I even saw feather beds go flying through the air.”
Mr. Baldwin laughed. “Those feathers probably flew higher than they ever did before,” he remarked.
They were feeling quite cheerful since their meal and were now sitting at one of the back windows watching the steadily descending rain. William had left the room, saying he meant to go in to see the Ingles and hear if they had any news to give. “We have shared more than one danger,” said Lettice, after a while. “I feel now as if when this war comes to an end, there must be a few of my friends who will be linked to me by stronger bonds than those of an ordinary friendship.”
“I am glad then that I have been of the privileged few, though I would rather have spared you these sad experiences. I wish I could have borne them for you,” her companion said.
“Have you not borne enough?” Lettice gave a glance at the bandaged arm.
“A trifle, compared to that which some suffered, yet sufficient to dash some bright hopes.”
“I don’t see why,” Lettice looked down.
“A man who has nothing but his chosen profession, and who has lost his chances of promotion in that, must stand aside and let others win what neither fortune nor honor will permit him to ask for,” he replied steadily.