But Erminie’s anxiety was only diverted to another quarter. That evening’s papers brought news of a severe battle in which Justin’s regiment had been engaged, and in which the Union arms were victorious.
And Erminie suffered the most acute anxiety until she received a letter from her brother full of good news of the victory and kind messages to friends, proving that he was quite well.
And Erminie’s soul rejoiced in thanksgiving.
Indeed, that summer of victories had so raised the spirits of all loyal people in Washington, as well as elsewhere, that long discontinued festivities began to be resumed; and, among the rest, picnic excursions became frequent.
The fine weather lingered long that season, and the early autumn was followed by an Indian Summer of unparalleled beauty and geniality.
In the very midst of that delicious season, when any rational human being, free from care or pain, might have been happy in any place, Elfie grew weary of the pleasant parsonage and wished for a change of scene, “if only for a day,” she said.
And so, instigated, no doubt, by the great enemy of mankind, she went about among her young acquaintances—idle young ladies, with nothing to do, and worse than idle young men who had dodged the draft, and she proposed to get up a picnic party to go to—The Great Falls of the Potomac, of all places in the world.
“You know, Erminie,” she argued, in defending herself to her hostess, “I have been shut up in this beleagured city so long, for nearly three years, unable to get into the country on account of the guerrillas, that indeed I feel like a prisoner longing to escape.”
“But I thought you promised not to leave me,” said Erminie, who (though from no selfish motive) disapproved the venture altogether.
“Neither do I intend to leave you. I intend that you shall go too. Think, Erminie! the weather is so perfectly beautiful! pleasanter than we could have it at any other season of the year. It is just dry and cool and bright enough to be entirely delightful!”