The Trials of the Soldier's Wife

  CHAPTER SECOND.

  THE WIFE AND CHILDREN--A VISITOR

  The weeks passed slowly to Mrs. Wentworth from the departure of herhusband; but her consciousness that he was performing his duty to hiscountry, and the letters he wrote from Virginia, cheered her spirits,and, in a measure, made her forget his absence.

  She was alone one evening with her children, who had become the soletreasures of her heart, and on whom she lavished every attentionpossible, when the ringing of the bell notified her of the presence ofa visitor. Calling the servant, she bade her admit the person at thedoor. The negro left the room to do her mistress' bidding, and shortlyafter, a handsome gentleman of about thirty-five years of age entered.

  "Good morning, Mrs. Wentworth," he said, on entering the room. "Itrust yourself and children are in good health."

  Mrs. Wentworth rose from her chair, and, slightly inclining her head,replied: "To what circumstance am I indebted for the honor of thisvisit, Mr. Awtry?"

  "Nothing very particular, madam," he replied; "but hearing of yourhusband's departure, I thought I should lake the liberty of paying avisit to an old acquaintance, and of offering my services, if youshould ever need them."

  "I thank you for your kindness; and should I _ever_ need yourservices, you may depend upon my availing myself of your offer;although," she added, "I do not think it likely I shall stand in needof any assistance."

  "I rejoice to hear it, my dear madam," he replied; "but I trust," hecontinued, on noticing the look of surprise which covered herfeatures, "that you will not think my offer in the least insulting;for I can assure you, it was only prompted by the most friendlymotives, and the recollections of past days."

  Mrs. Wentworth made no reply, and he continued: "I hope that, after anabsence of five years, the memory of the past has been banished fromyou. With me things have changed materially. The follies of my youthhave, I trust, been expiated, and I am a different man now to what Iwas when I last saw you."

  "Mr. Awtry," replied Mrs. Wentworth, "I feel rather surprised that,after your presence in New Orleans for so many months, you should nothave thought proper to renew our acquaintance until after thedeparture of my husband."

  "Pardon me," he quickly answered. "I was introduced to your husband bya mutual friend; and as he never thought proper to extend aninvitation to me, I did not think myself authorized to call here.Learning of his departure this morning, and knowing that hiscircumstances were not of so favorable a character as he could wish, Ithought you might pardon my presumption in calling on you when youlearned the motive which actuated this visit--believe me, I amsincere; and now," he continued, "will you accept my proffered hand offriendship, and believe that my desire is only to aid the relatives ofone of the gallant men who have gone to struggle for their rights?"

  Mrs. Wentworth paused a moment before she accepted the extended hand,while her brow appeared clouded. At length, holding out her hand tohim, she said:

  "I accept your offered friendship, Mr. Awtry, in the same spirit, as Ihope, it is given; but, at the same time, trust you shall never betroubled with any importunities from me."

  "Thank you--thank you," he replied eagerly; "I shall not proveotherwise than worthy of your friendship. These are your children?" hecontinued, changing the conversation.

  "Yes," she replied, with a look of pride upon her little daughter andthe sleeping infant on the sofa; "these are my little family."

  Mr. Awtry took the little girl upon his knees and commenced caressingit, and, after remaining for a few moments in unimportantconversation, took his departure with the promise to call at somefuture time.

  As soon as he left Mrs. Wentworth sat down, and resting her hands onthe table, spoke to herself on the visit she had received. "What couldhave induced him to pay me this visit?" she said, musingly; "it isstrange--very strange that he should choose this particular time torenew our acquaintance! He spoke honestly, however, and may be sincerein his offers of assistance, should I ever need anything. He iswealthy, and can certainly aid me." She sat there musing, until thelittle girl, coming up to her, twined her tiny arms round her mother'sneck, and asked if it was not time to light the gas.

  "Yes, darling," said Mrs. Wentworth, kissing her fondly; "call Betsyand let her get a light."

  After the negro had lit the gas, Mrs. Wentworth said to her, "Shouldthat gentleman, who was here to-day, call at any time again, let meknow before you admit him."

  "Yes, mistis," replied the negro with a curtsey.