Britomarte and Erminie went their morning rounds of the hospitals, and returned home to dinner. But Elfie did not appear. Neither, luckily, did her father. The two friends went out again on their afternoon rounds, and returned to tea. They found Major Fielding walking up and down on the porch. He greeted the young ladies cordially, and apologized for his unexpected absence from the dinner table by explaining that he had met a brother officer, who had carried him off to dine at Willard’s. Then he inquired:
“Where is my girl? I haven’t seen her since I came home.”
“She is in her room, perhaps,” answered Erminie, uneasily, but hoping earnestly that Elfie might be found there.
Erminie hurried into the house, and up stairs to Elfie’s chamber, where, sure enough, she found the girl, with her bonnet and shawl thrown carelessly upon the floor, and herself sitting down on the sofa, sulking.
“Oh, Elfie, dearest, I am so glad to see you back again. We have been so anxious about you all day. Where have you been, darling?” exclaimed Erminie, going towards her.
“Where have I been? To the Provost Marshal’s office, of course.”
“Oh, my dear!”
“Yes, I have. But would you believe it, Erminie? they wouldn’t accept me. No, they wouldn’t, although I told them all that I told you, and proved to them that I didn’t come under any one of the heads of exemption, and that I was both willing and able to serve my country. No; for all I could say they wouldn’t accept me.”
“My dear, did you really expect that they would?” inquired Erminie in astonishment.
“I don’t see why they shouldn’t. It’s all bosh about my being a woman. I tell you, Erminie, a healthy young woman is quite as well able to perform military duty as most men are, and much more able than the mere boys they are constantly mustering into the ranks. I put that all to them. But they laughed at me—they did, the narrow-minded old fogies!”