At a Girl's Mercy, or, The Fortunes of War — page 57: what you’re looking at

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

46 AT A GIRLS MERCY. ‘Nannie, Nannie, it was cruel of me to teil you this. I should have known how you would take it. Ned said I must tell you none of it’’—even in the pain of her thoughts it was sweet to think that Ned had thought of her—‘‘he wouldn’t tell me, after this first story of the poor boy. There are pleasant things to think about the war and our-boys, and why think of this sad story? They are not all dead or wounded, Nan. Some of them go through the thickest of the fight, and come out unharmed, and our boys say it is that some pure woman is thinking of them, Ii we can’t all go, dear, we can stay at home and pray, and keep our thoughts of them pure and our faith unshaken, We accepted the risks when we sent them away, and we would not call them back till their duty is done. My brother goes back to- morrow, Nan, and yours are there. Come, unless you smile I shall go away, knowing that I begin by being a coward.’ Nan shook her head sadly, no stirring of a smile on her white lips. ‘“T haven’t heard from Frank,’’ she said, slowly, her voice as cold and set as her face. ‘I haven’t heard from Frank in three weeks, Helen, and he promised to write regularly when he could.”’ “Of course,’’ Helen said, with quick cheerfulness and a flitting smile that somehow eased her friend’s heart. ‘‘Of course, Nan, and so he will; but as Ned has told me, there are so many things coming up now that one doesn’t expect, and had never thought of that put all thoughts of letter-writing out of one’s head. You know, Nan, I would not say this if it were not so.”’ | ‘‘] know,’’ Nan answered, gravely, but the trouble in her eyes set a shadow in» the darker ones oppo- f CeCoynaiicel exe (0 Siero) m1