"Then I must plead by actions. Well, I must go now."
Mrs. Whately was much pleased, for her son was adopting just the course she desired. She added nothing and accompanied Louise downstairs.
The amputating table had been removed and the halls cleansed, but the unmistakable odor of the hospital pervaded the house. Every apartment on the first floor except the dining-room was filled with the wounded. Some were flushed and feverish by reason of their injuries, others, pallid from loss of blood and ebbing vital forces.
The Confederate general, with his staff, had already made a hasty breakfast and departed; through the open door came the mellow sound of bugles and the songs of birds, but within were irrepressible sighs and groans. Mrs. Whately entered the spacious parlor on the floor of which Confederate officers lay as close as space for attendance upon them permitted. The young girl paused on the threshold and looked around with a pitying, tearful face. A white-haired colonel was almost at her feet. As he looked up and recognized her expression, a pleased smile illumined his wan, drawn face. "Don't be frightened, my child," he said gently.
The swift glance of her secured attention took in his condition. His right arm was gone and he appeared ghastly from loss of blood. In her deep emotion she dropped on her knees beside him, took his cold hand and kissed it as she said, "Please let me help you and others get well."
The old man was strongly touched by her unexpected action, and he faltered, "Well, my child, you make us all feel that our Southern girls are worth fighting for and, if need be, dying for. Yes, you can help us, some of us, in our dying perhaps, as well as in our mending. My battles are over. You can help best by caring for younger, stronger men."
"Such men will not begrudge you anything, sir."
"Bravo!" cried half a dozen voices, and an officer near added, "Miss
Baron speaks as well and true as you fought, Colonel."
She looked hastily around. Seeing many friendly smiles and looks of honest goodwill and admiration she rose confusedly, saying, "I must go to work at once."
"I think, Louise," said Mrs. Whately, joining her in the hall, "we can accomplish most if we work much together and under the directions of the surgeons. It is evident from the numbers of the wounded that time, strength, food—everything will have to be used to the best advantage. I'm glad that we both got some sleep last night. Now, I insist. Before you do a thing you must have a cup of hot coffee and some nourishing food yourself. The best impulses in the world are not equal to the tasks before us. Indeed, we shall fail these poor men in their sore need if we do not keep our strength. The worst is yet to come. As far as you can, control your feelings, for emotion wears faster than work. Let's first go to the kitchen."