"Too bad," rejoined Carley, thoughtfully. This information as to the
suffering of American soldiers had augmented during the last few months,
and seemed to possess strange, poignant power to depress Carley. Always
she had turned away from the unpleasant. And the misery of unfortunates
was as disturbing almost as direct contact with disease and squalor. But
it had begun to dawn upon Carley that there might occur circumstances of
life, in every way affronting her comfort and happiness, which it would
be impossible to turn her back upon.
At this juncture Flo returned to the room, and again Carley was struck
with the girl's singular freedom of movement and the sense of sure poise
and joy that seemed to emanate from her presence.
"I've made a fire in your little stove," she said. "There's water
heating. Now won't you come up and change those traveling clothes.
You'll want to fix up for Glenn, won't you?"
Carley had to smile at that. This girl indeed was frank and
unsophisticated, and somehow refreshing. Carley rose.
"You are both very good to receive me as a friend," she said. "I hope
I shall not disappoint you.... Yes, I do want to improve my appearance
before Glenn sees me.... Is there any way I can send word to him--by
someone who has not seen me?"
"There shore is. I'll send Charley, one of our hired boys."
"Thank you. Then tell him to say there is a lady here from New York to
see him, and it is very important."
Flo Hutter clapped her hands and laughed with glee. Her gladness gave
Carley a little twinge of conscience. Jealously was an unjust and
stifling thing.
Carley was conducted up a broad stairway and along a boarded hallway
to a room that opened out on the porch. A steady low murmur of falling
water assailed her ears. Through the open door she saw across the porch
to a white tumbling lacy veil of water falling, leaping, changing, so
close that it seemed to touch the heavy pole railing of the porch.
This room resembled a tent. The sides were of canvas. It had no ceiling.
But the roughhewn shingles of the roof of the house sloped down closely.
The furniture was home made. An Indian rug covered the floor. The bed
with its woolly clean blankets and the white pillows looked inviting.
"Is this where Glenn lay--when he was sick?" queried Carley.
"Yes," replied Flo, gravely, and a shadow darkened her eyes. "I ought to
tell you all about it. I will some day. But you must not be made unhappy
now.... Glenn nearly died here. Mother or I never left his side--for a
while there--when life was so bad."