"Why, he has got work enough to do," said Major Fairbairn. "I don't know if it is work that he likes. I have some private acquaintance with the man. His business is to keep Johnston busy, so that he will not have leisure to look our way."
"And suppose Patterson does not do his duty?"
"Then we may have too much on our hands. Beauregard doesn't want any help just now." And weary, no doubt, of the subject, the major diverged to some lighter matters of conversation. I tried to answer and make talk, but my heart was very sick. I could hardly know what he was saying; Beauregard, and Patterson, and Johnston, so ran in my thoughts. I suppose the major did not find it out, for he seemed very well satisfied, and at parting said that "after the victory" he would come and have another ride with me.
So I waited now for news. Dull, dreadful days; long with an interminable length of quarters and half hours; heavy with fear. They were not many; for the morning but one, I think, after my last ride, a gentleman stopped me in the street to tell me that firing had been heard that morning, and McDowell had, it was thought, met his enemy. I calculated the days since I had seen Mr. Thorold; speculated on Patterson's probable activity or non-activity, and Christian's consequent place and duty in the position of affairs; and could only know that it was all a confusion of pain. At first I thought to go at once back to the house and give up my walk; but a second thought of that dull weary waiting inside of walls sent me on up the avenue. I might hear something more; at any rate, the open sky was a better breathing-place.
The open sky! Blue and calm as ever; moveless and pure; while the grim strife of a battlefield was raging beneath it. Was there another struggle where Johnston's forces were opposed by General Patterson? And why could I not leave my cares now, as so many a time I had left them, as I longed to leave them this minute, - in the hand that upheld that blue sky? I could not. That is to say, I did in some fashion, which kept me from utterly fainting; but I was not confident; I was not willing that the will of God should be done irrespective of mine, If writhed from under the pressure of a coming possibility. Could I help it? My one first earthly joy, the treasure that gathered up all life's riches for me; could I think of that treasure being scattered and not know that should be left poor? And what if God willed I should be thus poor? Ah, I was not ready.
I had a long, feverish walk, made as long as I could; and came home with a sort of thirst of heart, and very weary. Mrs. Sandford met me, and I had to turn into the parlour.
"Grant is a little better, I think," she said.
I could not find words to speak to her. If he was better, why, then, he would be taking me from Washington. I knew how it would be.
"He is certainly better," she repeated, with exultation in her voice; "and now, my dear Daisy, we will get away from this horrid place. My dear, how - how grey you look! What is the matter? you are tired to death."
I almost wished I was. However, I commanded myself, and told her I had been walking far, and it was hot, and no doubt I was grey with dust.