The Louisiana Democrat. [volume] (Alexandria, La.) 1845-1918, 1890-05-28
Chow do you know?" said Marion,
half smiling.

are so alike, even mother was at times
puzzled to tell us apart Old DR.. Sever
ance used to say that we were, after all,
only one boy, without physique enough
for the two bodies we 'materialized' in
to. always felt ashamed, in dull
sort of way, to be so robust when Sandy
could not keep up with me; but he is far
the sweeter-natured of the two. You
would have loved him the better, Mar
ion."
"Never!" was the swift, indignant
answer.
So Hugh Heriot enlisted with
Northern regiment, parted with his
sweetheart bravely, and left her to wait |
as hundreds like her were left in those |
| dreadful days.
| Did we know then, shall we ever
know-we who came out scathless
what those women suffered, who, tied
hand and foot, maddened by the poor
recurrent routine of daily life, filled
with vague imaginative terrors, had yet
to live and do their petty duties under
the edge of sword worse than the
tabled blade of Damocles?
Honor for ever to that noble army of
martyrs! To them, no less than to
those who lost their lives on the actual
battlefield, should monuments arise
and wreaths be offered. They were
the beating heart that sent strong life
blood into the battling hand, and, oh!
how often persisted with it! not in the
pallor and decay of physical death, not
in the rest and shelter of the flower
strewn grave, but in the broken heart,
the joyless life, the desperation of
memory, the dying, yet behold we
live" that death in life that is the
greatest if not the last enemy!
If there were other women who suf-
fered more than Marion Lancaster in
this dire suspense she did not know it;
it seemed to her no heart could be more
torn with anxiety, more tortured by
the silence that yet thrilled with dread
: full possibilities than hers. She did
not consider that her love for Hugh
r Heriot was young passion scarcely
rooted in her breast: that she was
: bound to him by none of the strong
) ties of those who had sent their hus-
: bands out to war, and crouched on DESC
l late hearth-stones with clinging chill
y dren about them, who might the next
: hour be wailing orphans; she thought
|. she suffered all she could, and as week
IL after week grew into month after
( month, and the second year came lin.
/ gering on, she grew thin, pale and list
z less.
: For Hugh Heriot had yet no fur
s. Tough; the few times Marion had heard
c from him he had spoken of his inten
Q tion to apply for one at the years end
q but he had enlisted for the war, ant
u felt that while his strength lasted hi
. must fight; he was more needed on the
field than even Marion needed him.
u Yet after that first year began there
u We're no more letters, and after thu
Il battle of Lookout Mountain, the list
of killed and wounded came in so slowl,,
- that it was long week before thu
very last showed among the list o
i missing" "Hugh Heriot, Major c
~ Tenth Infantry"
70 "Missing!"' Can words expound wha
o. that one word meant in those days
~ Not the sharp blow of "Wounded,
~ which implied possible life, and even
hope of immediate repair to the sufferer
- and all the gentle ministries to reliev
~ one and console the other, blessed il
- giving or taking. Not the stun an
y, desolation of Dead" that left no wors
~ to fear, nor tantalized with the ignl
fatuus of hope; but that one fatal wor
q that tortured but did not Stay; tina
do bound the victim to the stake and pile
~ the fagots, but delayed to light the fir
- till the waiting grew to be madness.
Marion was warm-hearted imag
a native girl, and "Missing" meant to he
49, a long chapter of surmised agonies. l
~ her waking hours she figured so man
"a and such dreadful possibilities that he
- sleep renewed and exaggerated, sh
! painted such sufferings for her los
-, lover, such terrific and harassing sitl
~ ations, that it would have been pc:
o., tive relief to her to know of his deatf
", " vet she would not admit it to hersel
~ She lost all that held her to life, whe1
:; Just as the war ceased, her widowe
W. mother died suddenly and without on
49, farewell word 1t would have been bette
.-' for Marion had necessity forced her
! exertion, but she had enough money
~ live on comfortably, and SO she shr
y herself in her tiny house with her oil
servant, and made herself solitar
mourner. Her beautiful and abundar
brown hair grew white as snow, an
! her eyes lost their sparkle; but he
health gradually asserted itself aneV
\ her constitution was strong, and she a
( most lived out of doors, either in hi
garden, which was her sole amuseme1
and pleasure, or walking over tn
} breezy hills of the country about Sh
had never been half so beautiful whe
Hugh Heriot knew her as she wa
eight years after, when, one exquisit
morning in May, she stood by her doc
T. clipping boughs of hawthorn from hi
Z one cherished tree, and placing the
: beside the apple blossoms she had a
Z ready gathered in large basket. The
too were sheaves of pale narcissu
~ trails of heaven blue myrtle, bunch
of the later snow-drops and gorgeo'
tulips; for it was Memorial Day, al
never since its first observance h;
, I Marion failed to carry whatever bic
SONS she could find to the cemeter
th and add her share to the honors OF Il
Ter few dead soldiers who slept in tn