At a Girl's Mercy, or, The Fortunes of War — page 55: what you’re looking at

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

Veh ee AT A GIRLS MERCY. her work well. Isn’t Mrs. Courtland any better? I hoped I would find some improvement.” ‘She is sleeping now,’’ he responded, as he re- turned to his seat under the drop-light, and took up the paper; “‘but it isn’t a natural sleep, Helen. The physicians said she must be quieted, and they have placed her under the influence of opiates. As you say, the worst and hardest to bear is the waiting, and we wait shut out from her room. But we hope for the best, my daughter and I[.”’ ‘‘Poor papa,’’ Nan said, as she and her friend set- tled themselves in the window seat at the farthest end of the room where the light fell softly upon them through the sweeping folds of the lace dra pery. “‘How much he has to bear, Helen. Yet, if it were not for him and mamma, and that I am needed here, I would go with you to-morrow. What a proud girl-you must be to go to the war and be of use in helping along the Union.”’ “It will be sadder than you think, Nan,’’ Helen said, smoothing the white, clinging fingers of her friend. ‘‘Oh, so much sadder than we ever dreamed. Ned has told me so much of what I must see and go through, and the terrible, terrible suffering I will constantly be called upon to witness and assist in relieving, and the need of steady nerves and utter self-forgetfulness, that I tremble to think how I may fail. Oh, Nan, war is so terrible, so terrible! How can I ever bear to see them brought in—our brave blue laddies!—mutilated, dying, and to see them die, unable to help them. Oh, Nan, Nan, Iam afraid I shall turn coward in the very midst of their bravery. Ned told me when he first came home on this leave, of one of .the young fellows—he couldn’t have been more than twenty—who begged so hard Gomicbooks.co