But with few exceptions Helen declined the latter, feeling that with her husband in so much danger, it was better not to mingle in gay society. She was very happy with Mrs. Banker, who petted and caressed and loved her almost as much as if she had been her own daughter. Mark’s letters, too, which came nearly every day, were bright sun-spots in her existence, so full were they of tender love and kind thoughtfulness for her. He was very happy, he wrote, in knowing that at home there was a dear little brown-haired wife, waiting and praying for him, and but for the separation from her he was well content with a soldier’s life. Once Helen thought seriously of going to him for a week or more, but, the project was prevented by the sudden arrival in New York of Katy, who came one night to Mrs. Banker’s, with her face as white as ashes, and a wild expression in her eyes as she said to Helen,
“I am going to Wilford. He is dying. He has sent for me. I ought to go on to-night, but cannot, my head aches so,” and pressing both her hands upon her head Katy sank fainting into Helen’s arms.
CHAPTER XLIII.
GEORGETOWN HOSPITAL.
Georgetown, February—, 1862.
Mrs. Wilford Cameron:
“Your husband cannot live long. Come immediately.
M. Hazelton.”
So read the telegram received by Katy one winter morning, and which stunned her for a few minutes so that she could neither feel nor think. But the reaction came soon enough, bringing with it only the remembrance of Wilford’s love. All the wrong, the harshness, was forgotten, and only the desire remained to fly at once to Wilford. Bravely she kept up until New York was reached, when the tension of her nerves gave way, and she fainted, as we have seen.
At Father Cameron’s a telegram had been received, telling of Wilford’s danger. But the mother could not go to him. A lung difficulty, to which she was subject, had confined her to the house for many days, and so it was the father and Bell who made their hasty preparations for the hurried journey to Georgetown. They heard of Katy’s arrival, and Bell came at once to see her.
“She will not be able to join us to-morrow,” was the report Bell carried home, for she saw more than mere exhaustion in the white face lying so motionless on Helen’s pillow, with the dark rings about the eyes, and the quiver of the muscles about the mouth.