At a Girl's Mercy, or, The Fortunes of War — page 191: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

180 | AT A GIRLS MERCY. lives through their struggle, or gave them tender memories of what a woman’s hand can do to soften the trial of death, but her heart—how could they know of the sorrow in her own heart as she smiled her sunniest and her words were the bravest, her hands light upon theirs to soften the pain of their sufferings? How could they know that for her all hope to come with the end of the war was atan end? Only life’s sunshine was for such as her, they said among themselves, and there was only the wish that sunshine should be forever over her life in their hearts as they said it. That theirs were dark- ened with pain was but cause fer her tenderness over them, and they could bear their pain more bravely with the frank eyes upon them and the touch of the light fingers over theirs. Her nursing might not go far toward bringing them back to health, but her presence was like the brightening of a dark sky, and gave them hope of sunny weather when the darkness should be past. The surgeons were her friends, the nurses loved her. There was that of womanly tenderness under the proud grace of her manner that dislikes or distrusts could not enter where she was. There was not aman among them, bearing their sufferings bravely as they did, but would have gladly laid down his life for the bringing of more happiness into her own. ‘There was not a woman there but would have been willing to lose much of her own gladness—should there ever come gladness again in her life—to have brought more brightness into that of the tender woman, so like a child in her tiny form and her frank face, with its short sunny curls over the small proud head, and the slender hands, so pure and white, bearing no mark of the roughness of life. “IT can’t help looking at you, Miss Courtland,’’ one of her patients said to her one day, stopping her as she was passing his cot, reaching out his one strong hand, the other—ah, well, he had given the other to his country, and would have given more had it been ~ necessary—‘‘you look so much like a young fellow that fought in our ranks one day down yonder,” a nod of his head toward the bitter fields toward the comicbooks.com — SG ta i _ s wr 4p Lae bias?) oat aay + all . yg) Pee : Se oe ot ee oe “tg. «AN y ty