“But, mommy,” said the girl, chokingly, as she knelt at her mother’s feet and threw her arms about Mrs. Meredith’s waist, “since live we must, what can we do but—but—Oh, would that I had never been born!” and then the girl buried her head in her mother’s lap.
“’T is most unseemly, child, to speak so. God has put us here to punish and chasten us for Adam’s sin; and ’t is not for us, who sinned in him, to question His infinite wisdom.”
“Then I wish He ’d tell me what it is my duty to do!” lamented Janice.
“Thinkest thou he has nothing to do but take thought of thy affairs?”
“Wouldst have me marry him, mommy?” asked the girl, chokingly.
“Let us talk no further now, child, but take a night’s thought over it.”
They were engaged in discussing the problem the following afternoon, when Lieutenant Hennion burst in upon them.
“Why, Phil!” cried Mrs. Meredith; and Janice, springing from her chair, met him half-way with outstretched hand, while exclaiming, “Oh, Mr. Hennion, ’t is indeed good to see an old friend’s face.”
“’T is glad tidings ter me ter hearn you say that,” declared Philemon, eagerly. “Yestere’en General Lee and the other rebel prisoners came out from Philadelphia, and we, having been brought from Morristown some days ago, were at once set at liberty; but ’t was too late ter come in, so we waited for daylight. I only reported at quarters, and then, learning where you lodged, I come—I came straight ter—to find how you fared.”
Alternating explanation and commentary, the women told of their difficulties.