Christmas at Cedar Hill

by Lucy Ellen Guernsey

"After that she was very quiet, and went about giving orders, and seeing papa's things packed, as if he were only going away for a day's shooting. When he had kissed us and bade us good-by, and we could not see him any longer from the veranda, mamma led me into her room and took me on her lap, where she cried and sobbed over me for a long time. Then she told me that papa was going to battle, and that we must pray to God to send him safe home again; and so we did, but he never came back any more. Two or three days after he went away, my father's orderly came galloping up to the house. He dismounted, and spoke two or three words to the servants as he passed through the veranda, at which they all broke out into loud lamentations. I knew what he said, for, as I told you, I had learned a good deal of the language. He said, 'Your master is killed!'"

"Mamma was lying on the couch in the inner room, with the blinds all drawn down, for it was very hot, and she was not well. I ran in to her, crying: 'Oh, mamma, my papa is killed!'"

"'What do you mean, Agatha?' she asked, rising and looking very pale. 'Have you been dreaming? Who has heard anything of Papa?'"

"At that moment Jones came to the door, and as soon as mamma saw him she guessed what had happened."

"'Is my husband dead, Jones?' she asked, as quietly as though it had been an ordinary question."

"'I am sorry to say it is too true, ma'am,' he replied; and then he gave her some letters to read, and turned away, brushing the tears from his eyes, for all my papa's men loved him. My mamma read the letters quite calmly, and then calling Jones' wife, who waited on her, and giving me into her charge, she went away into her own room, and shut the door. By that time the news was known all through the cantonment, and several of the ladies came to see my mother, but they could not do her any good. She just sat still in her chair, and did not speak or seem to hear one word that was said to her."

"'This will never do,' said the doctor, who had come with the rest. 'She must be made to weep, or she will die.'"

"'Go to your mamma and talk to her about papa, my dear Agatha,' said the chaplain's wife to me. I did as I was told, though I felt rather afraid. At first she did not seem to notice me, but by-and-by she burst into tears and cried bitterly for a long time. All the ladies seemed glad, and I thought this very strange. It seemed cruel to me that they should want my mamma to cry, but the chaplain's wife explained to me that they thought she would feel better after it. She was better, especially after the chaplain himself came and read to her and prayed with her. He was a kind, good man, and that night, he took me on his knee and talked to me a long time about dear papa. He told me what a brave soldier and what a good man he had been, and that he had no doubt of his being in heaven, where I should some time see him if I loved my Saviour as he had done. All this comforted me very much, and I have always remembered it."

"After this there was a great confusion, packing up, and selling off all our things. I was told we were going to England to see my father's relations, about whom I had never heard a great deal, for, when mamma talked about my uncle, she always meant my uncle in America, who had taken Charley."

"'Cannot we go to America, where Charley is?' I asked."