“Oh, ma’am, I am praying all the time, in my heart, for Roland,” sighed the girl.
“Well, darling, when you pray, you must trust.”
“Oh, I do try to! I do try to! But this dreadful uncertainty! Oh! just look how happy Odalite and the other girls are! But Odalite—every time she turns her head around her face flashes! She is so delighted! Oh! I hope I am not envious, but I do wish I felt as sure of seeing Roland safe and well as you all are of seeing Leonidas great and happy!”
Mrs. Force smiled, pensively, at the exaggerated words of the poor little girl, but she did not attempt to criticize them.
It was now nearly ten o’clock, and in spite of excitement and anxiety the travelers yielded to a sense of fatigue and drowsiness, ceased to talk, and began to doze.
There was no sleeping car on that train, or if there was, the party had not engaged berths, so they sat in uneasy attitudes, and dropped off, one by one, into slumber, that was only disturbed by the stopping of the train at the stations, and quickly resumed when the train was again in motion.
They woke up thoroughly when they reached Philadelphia, where several more cars were attached to the train, and a number of troops got on to go to Washington, en route to reinforce Gen. Grant’s army. Many of these soldiers could not find seats, though the train was a long one, and they had to stand in a line down the middle of the cars.
This made the air stifling, oppressive and stupefying.
Our party dropped off into a deep, unwholesome sleep, which lasted until the train reached Baltimore, when they one and all awoke with a sense of sickness and semisuffocation.
But here people got in and people got out, doors were opened at each end, and a draught of purifying air went through and revived the sufferers.