"Oh, you do?"
"Yes."
"Well, I shall go and talk reason to mamma, for sister Berta yields to everything without a word. You must stay, and I shall do my share of watching as soon as the doctor permits."
Mrs. Merwyn thought she would remain in her room as she had said, but the fountains of the great deep in her soul were breaking up. She found that the mother in her heart was stronger than the partisan. She MUST see her son.
At last she sent Thomas for Dr. Henderson again, and obtained permission to look upon her child. Bitter as the physician knew the experience would be, it might be salutary. With noiseless tread she crossed the threshold, and saw Marian's pure, pale profile; she drew a few steps nearer; the young girl turned and bowed gravely, then resumed her watch.
For the moment Merwyn was silent, then in a voice all too distinct he said: "Cruel, unnatural mother, to rob me of my manhood, to chain me like one of her slaves. Jeff Davis and empire are more to her than husband or son."
The conscience-stricken woman covered her face with her hands and glided away. As by a lightning-flash the reason why she had forfeited her place by the couch of her son was revealed.
CHAPTER LIII.
"MISSY S'WANEE."
THERE is no need of dwelling long on subsequent events. Our story has already indicated many of them. Mrs. Merwyn's bitter lesson was emphasized through many weary days. She hovered about her son like a remorseful spirit, but dared not speak to him. She had learned too well why her voice might cause fatal agitation. For a time she tried to ignore Marian, but the girl's gentle dignity and profound sorrow, her untiring faithfulness, conquered pride at last, and the mother, with trembling lips, asked forgiveness and besought affection.