The Abbeville press and banner. [volume] (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, 1901-01-02
CHAPTER XXI.
CONTINUED.

Courage. however, and they did not
fold their hands and cry. Madame
Souyestre, in whose mansion Fairfax
was receiving such tender nursing,
went out every day to sew for the
army. At the Livingston home was
where most of this work was done; at
least so for as Madame Souvestre's
circle Was concerned, and there, from
early morning until the dinner hour,
q throng of ladies cut and stitched
aud wrought with lively, is not happy.
chatter, keeping up brave show OF
nerve and confidence. while their
husbands, fathers, brothers and lovers
dug and shoveled with pick and spade
in the muddy sand, building line OF
bresstworks from the river near Chal-
mette across to the swamp.
Madame Souvestre was considered
the most favored one of her circle.
To have a brave, young soldier,
wounded almost to death, as her
special charge, to care for in her own
house, with her own hands, seemed to
all those noble-hearted and patriotic
women the very highest possible
honor.
ct nm just as jealous of you as I
can be-" said Mrs. Livingston, one
day, after the sewing task was over
and the other ladies had gone away,
sand I think it selfish Of you, dear,
not to alloy me even to see your brave
young patient"
"But the doctor forbade it, you
know, and said that he mnst see no
one-no one must even speak to
him-he must have absolute quiet.
Yes, that was just what he said, abso-
lutte quiet"
"You will be falling iu> love
with him, Hortense," Mrs. Liv.
ingston remarked, after lit
tie further conversation had dis
closed Madame Souvestre's enthusi-
astic admiration of the young mans
personal appearance, 'tand that will
be romantic-it will be like novel.
What did you say is his name9"
"Fairfax. It has q noble sound,
hasn't it? But, no." with a little
sigh, 'there is no more romance for
me-"
Madame Souvestre's husband had
been killed III duel only month af-
ter her marriage, two years gone by.
He was noted swordsman; but when
he met Colonel Loring under thu duel
ing oaks, it was Death that he fenced
with, and he was ruin through at the
third pass.
"Forgive me, DEAR" cooed Mrs.
Livingston, taking the petite form in
her arms, "I am always saying some
thing foolish. You are too good and
sweet to be the victim of my teasing
tongue
She kissed her and then held her at
arms. length to look lovingly at her.
"You are so beautiful, dear, that if
I were q man I know I should steal
you. Icouldn't help it!'
Madame Souvestre laughed, half
blushing at her friends enthusiasm.
She broke away and said:
"I must go back to him; he needs a
great deal of care, that hero of mine. "
Mrs. Livingston stood smiling by
the door when her friend was gone.
"She loves him already, the little
arm.hearted witch!" she mused,
"and if he's even half a man he will
love her. Heigh-ho! I wish this war
was overw
She clasped her hands, and the
light faded out of her face. It was so
every evening after the ladies were
all gone and the house had become
silent. She nearly always went to her
dinner with tear-stained face and
with feverlsh eyes.
Fairfax did not improve as rapidly
as Madame Souvestre had hoped for;
but he bore up bravely enough and
showed little sign of dangerous rest
lessness until the night of the 7th of
January, when Crapaud Crapoussin
went back to the army.
"They need me-" the dwarf said,
sand I want to go. You can do with
out me for few hours"
He smiled in his hideously affection
ate way and fondled the sick mans
tloodless hand.
= Madame souvestre tried to persuade
him not to leave her, but he could not
be Influenced. He hadreceived word
that the battle would be on before day
light of the following day, and his
creole blood was hot with fight.
ct will be back to bring you the
news of the victory before sunset to-
morrow" he said, with queer drama
tic intonation.
Then he kissed the hand of Fairfax
and vas off.
Madame Souyestre cried little and
cast herself upon q priedieu, with
hands held forth beseechingly.
Fairfax watched her as if through
some sweet mist of tenderness. The
plump little figure, the perfectly
poised head. the softly rounded arms
and beautiful, tiny hands were but
bewitching auxiliaries to the pure,
childlike, almost sanity face upturned
in prayer.
When she arose and came to his
bedside, he felt deep comfort in her
sarness to him.
How good, how very good you
arep' he murmured.
Then he closed his eyes and thought
OF Pauline.
Madame Souvestre stroked his pale
forehead gently, slowly, her hands
trembling with the exquisite thrill
that was in her nerves. He sank into
a soft slumber and dreamed that it
was Pauline who thus soothed away
h;o poin