"I've cares of my own enough," Mrs. O'Dowd said, gravely, "and I
thought poor Amelia would be little wanting for company this day. But
if she's so bad as you say, and you can't attend to her, who used to be
so fond of her, faith I'll see if I can be of service. And so good
marning to ye, Madam"; with which speech and a toss of her head, the
lady of the repayther took a farewell of Mrs. Crawley, whose company
she by no means courted.
Becky watched her marching off, with a smile on her lip. She had the
keenest sense of humour, and the Parthian look which the retreating
Mrs. O'Dowd flung over her shoulder almost upset Mrs. Crawley's
gravity. "My service to ye, me fine Madam, and I'm glad to see ye so
cheerful," thought Peggy. "It's not YOU that will cry your eyes out
with grief, anyway." And with this she passed on, and speedily found
her way to Mrs. Osborne's lodgings.
The poor soul was still at the bedside, where Rebecca had left her, and
stood almost crazy with grief. The Major's wife, a stronger-minded
woman, endeavoured her best to comfort her young friend. "You must bear
up, Amelia, dear," she said kindly, "for he mustn't find you ill when
he sends for you after the victory. It's not you are the only woman
that are in the hands of God this day."
"I know that. I am very wicked, very weak," Amelia said. She knew her
own weakness well enough. The presence of the more resolute friend
checked it, however; and she was the better of this control and
company. They went on till two o'clock; their hearts were with the
column as it marched farther and farther away. Dreadful doubt and
anguish--prayers and fears and griefs unspeakable--followed the
regiment. It was the women's tribute to the war. It taxes both alike,
and takes the blood of the men, and the tears of the women.
At half-past two, an event occurred of daily importance to Mr. Joseph:
the dinner-hour arrived. Warriors may fight and perish, but he must
dine. He came into Amelia's room to see if he could coax her to share
that meal. "Try," said he; "the soup is very good. Do try, Emmy," and
he kissed her hand. Except when she was married, he had not done so
much for years before. "You are very good and kind, Joseph," she said.
"Everybody is, but, if you please, I will stay in my room to-day."
The savour of the soup, however, was agreeable to Mrs. O'Dowd's
nostrils: and she thought she would bear Mr. Jos company. So the two
sate down to their meal. "God bless the meat," said the Major's wife,
solemnly: she was thinking of her honest Mick, riding at the head of
his regiment: "'Tis but a bad dinner those poor boys will get to-day,"
she said, with a sigh, and then, like a philosopher, fell to.