During his absence Somers had received occasional letters from Kate Portington; and we will not undertake to say how many reams of fine note paper he spoiled in saying what can be of interest to none but the parties concerned. Of course there was any quantity of liquid moonshine spread out on these dainty sheets, and the young man was all the happier for writing it, as she was for reading it, for Kate and Somers had come to an excellent understanding with each other on these matters.
At the earliest day the public service would admit, he hastened to Newport; but on his arrival he found the commodore's house filled with grief and lamentation. The husband and the father—the kindest of husbands and the tenderest of fathers—had been suddenly stricken down in New Orleans, where his ship was stationed. The sad tidings had come but a few hours before; and a few hours later it had flashed all over the land that one of the nation's truest defenders had fallen at the post of duty.
In her grief Kate clung to Somers, who became the tenderest of comforters. Then she learned, when earth was dark to her, what a wealth of holy hope and pious faith there was in the soul of him she had chosen from the whole world to lean upon in joy and in sorrow, in prosperity and adversity, till life's fitful dream was over. Fondly she looked up to him in her heavy affliction, and through him to the heaven of which he spoke. He wept with her for him who was gone, and if she had loved him before, she reverenced him now.
Two weeks after the news came a steamer bearing the remains of the deceased commodore. Then the tears broke out afresh, and Somers continued to perform the holy office he had chosen. With the bereaved child—the only one—he stood at the tomb, and helped her to see the glory that streamed forth beyond its dark portals. Every day, for weeks after, he visited her, never now to speak of his own selfish heart yearnings, but to utter words of peace and hope. When he announced his intention to return home, she could not restrain her tears, so needful had he become to her in the depth of her sorrow.
In the autumn her mother and herself came to Boston to spend the winter. Kate was cheerful now, but the affliction through which she had passed had given a shade of pensive sadness to her beautiful face, which time alone could wear away. They attended the wedding of Major Somers, John's brother, and rejoiced with him as he put the cup of bliss to his lips. Lilian and Kate became fast friends; they were nearer alike now than before the death of Commodore Portington.
The winter passed away, and early in March Lieutenant Somers was appointed to a ship bound to the Pacific Ocean. He must be absent two or three years. He hastened to Kate with the intelligence; and sad as it was to himself, he knew it would be infinitely more so to her. She turned pale, and burst into tears. Her mother was hardly less affected.
"You must not go, John! O, no! You will not leave me!"
"I must obey orders."
"You can resign," suggested Mrs. Portington.
"Resign!" exclaimed Somers. "Resign when I am ordered to difficult or disagreeable duty."