Rose Mather: A tale

by Mary Jane Holmes

But Jimmie was not to be disposed of so easily. He had no intention of entering the house, but he should wait outside, he said, until Annie’s visit was over. Annie had no alternative save submission, and parting from Jimmie at the gate, she hurried up the walk and was soon bending over the couch of the sick boy, whose eyes beamed the welcome his pale lips could scarcely speak. How many questions she had to ask him, and how much he had to tell her of that day when her husband received his fatal wound. Altogether it was a sad interview, and Annie’s eyes were nearly blistered with the hot tears she shed while listening to Isaac’s touching account of George ere the woods were gained, and Tom Carleton generously gave up his seat to the bleeding man, thereby becoming himself a prisoner. Much, too, was said in praise of Tom, and Annie felt that she could not do too much for one who had shown himself so generous and brave. Talking of Tom reminded her of Jimmie stalking up and down the icy walks, waiting patiently for her, and when at last the music of Tom’s serenade had ceased she arose to go, wishing to get away ere the band came there, as she knew they were intending to do. As John arose to accompany her, she had to say that “Jimmie Carleton was waiting for her by the gate.” Instantly the sharp eyes of the widow shot at her a curious glance, which brought the hot blood to her cheek, while John and Susan exchanged a smile, the meaning of which she could not fail to understand. Poor Annie! How her heart throbbed with pain as she guessed of what they were thinking! Could they for a moment believe her so heartless and cold? The mere idea made her dizzy and faint, and scarcely articulating her good-night, she hastened out into the cool night air, feeling half tempted to refuse outright the arm offered for her support. If she only dared tell him to leave her there alone,—leave her to flee away through the dark, lonely streets to the still more lonely yard, where on George’s grave she could lay herself down and die. But not thus easily could life’s heavy burden be shaken off, she could not lay it down at will,—and conquering the emotions which, each time she thought of John Simms’ significant smile, threatened to burst out into a fierce storm of passionate sobs, she apologized for having kept Jimmie waiting so long, and taking his arm left the cottage gate just as the throng of serenaders turned into that street. Jimmie knew she had been crying, and conjecturing that she had been talking of her husband, he, too, began to speak of George, asking her many questions about him, and repeating many things he had heard in his praise from the Rockland citizens. It seemed strange that this should comfort her, but it did. The hard, bitter feeling insensibly passed away while listening to Jimmie, and by the time the Mather Mansion was reached the tears were dried on Annie’s cheeks, and outwardly she was cheerful and patient as ever.

After that night Rose had no cause for complaint that Jimmie was rude to Annie, or Annie cool toward him, for though Annie talked to him but little, she did not forget the sympathy so delicately manifested for her, and treated him with as much respect as she awarded Tom, who grew each day more and more interested in the black-robed figure, reminding him so much of his lost Mary. Jimmie knew he did, and watched narrowly for the time when she would know it, too; but such time did not come, for Annie had no suspicion that either of the brothers regarded her with the shadow of a feeling save that of ordinary friendship. As much of her time as possible was spent with the Widow Simms, and a great part of Isaac’s visible improvement was owing to her gentle care and the sunshine of her presence. John’s furlough had expired, and now that he was gone, the disconsolate Susan turned to Annie for comfort, while Isaac watched daily for the sound of the little feet coming up the walk, and bringing with them so much happiness to the lonely cottage.

“I wish you’d stay home more; we miss you so much, and it’s so dismal without you. Mother nods over her knitting, Tom just walks the floor, or reads some stiff Presbyterian book, while Jimmie thrums the piano and teases my kitten awfully,” Rose said to Annie one night when the latter came in from a tour of calls, the last of which had been on Mrs. Baker, now a much happier, better woman, than when we first made her acquaintance. “It’s so different when you are here,” Rose continued, as Annie came and sat down by her side. “Tom is a heap more entertaining, while Jimmie is not half so mischievous and provoking.”

“I did not suppose my absence could affect your happiness, or I would certainly have staid with you more,” Annie replied; and Rose continued:

“Well, it just does, and now that both Tom and Jimmie are going so soon, I shall need you to oversee the things I must get ready for them.”

“Captain Carleton and Jimmie going away soon!” Annie repeated, in some surprise. “Where are they going? The Captain’s furlough has not yet expired.”

“I know it,” Rose continued, “but as he is perfectly well, he thinks it right to go back, and has fixed on one week from to-day.”

“Yes, but Jimmie. You spoke of his leaving, too,” Annie said, and Rose rejoined:

“Jimmie is going with Tom to join the Federal Army on the Potomac, and, as he says, retrieve, if possible, the character he lost by turning traitor once.”

“Oh, I am so glad! and I like him so much for that!” Annie exclaimed, her white face lighting up with a sudden animation, which made it seem very beautiful to the young man just entering the door.