I was to learn now, how difficult it sometimes is in new forms

of trial, to be quiet and submissive and trust. I used to be

able to trust myself and my wants with God; I found at this

time that the human cry of longing, and of fear, was very hard

to still. I was ready to trust, if I might only see Mr.

Thorold. I was willing to wait, if only we might not be

separated at last. But now to trust and to wait, when all was

in doubt for me; when, if I missed this sight of my friend, I

might never have another; when all the future was a cloudy sea

and a rocky shore; I felt that I must have this one moment of

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peace. Yet I prayed for it submissively; but I am afraid my

heart made its own cry unsubmissively.

I was restless. The days that followed the President's levee

were one after the other filled up with engagements and

amusements, - if I can give that term to what had such deep

and thrilling interest for me; but I grew only more secretly

restless with every one. My companions seemed to find it all

amusement, the rides and parades and receptions that were

constantly going on; I only saw everywhere the preparation for

a desperate game soon to be played. The Secessionists

threatened Washington; and said "only wait till the Fourth."

The people in Washington laughed at this; yet now and then I

saw one who did not laugh; and such were often some of those

who should know best and judge most wisely. Troops were

gathered under Beauregard's command not very far from the

capital. I knew the dash and fire and uncompromising temper of

the people I was born among; I could not despise their threats

nor hold light their power. My anxiety grew to see Mr.

Thorold; but I could not. I watched and watched; nothing like

him crossed my vision. Once, riding home late at night from a

gay visit to one of the neighbouring camps, we had drawn

bridle in passing the grounds of the Treasury Building, where

the Eleventh Massachusetts regiment was encamped; and slowly

walking by, were endeavouring to distinguish forms and sounds

through the dim night air - forms and sounds so novel in

Washington and so suggestive of interests at stake and dangers

at hand; when the distinct clatter of a horse's hoofs in full

gallop came down the street and passed closed by me. The light

of a passing lamp just brushed the flying horseman; not enough

to discover him, but enough to lift my heart into my mouth. I

could not tell whether it were Mr. Thorold; I cannot tell what

I saw; only my nerves were unstrung in a moment, and for the

rest of that night I tossed with impatient pain. The idea of

being so near Mr. Thorold, was more than I could bear. One

other time, in a crowd, I heard a bit of a laugh which

thrilled me. My efforts to see the person from whom it came

were good for nothing; nobody like my friend was in sight, or

near me; yet that laugh haunted me for two days.




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