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Both were commissioned in the militia, and my father actually rose as high as major in that branch of the service, that being the rank he held, and the title he bore, for the last fifteen years of his life. My mother was of Dutch extraction on both sides, her father having been a Blauvelt, and her mother a Van Busser.
She read the blood-stained accounts with paling cheeks, and at last saw the words, "Captain Blauvelt, wounded; Major Strahan, wounded and missing." This was all. There was room for hope; there was much cause to fear the worst. From Lane there were no tidings whatever. She was oppressed with the feeling that perhaps the frank, true eyes of these loyal friends might never again look into her own.
The tidings from her other friends were equally reassuring. Their regiment had lost heavily, and Blauvelt had been made a captain almost in spite of himself, while Strahan was acting as lieutenant-colonel, since the officer holding that rank had been wounded.
Blauvelt had maintained the journal during Strahan's absence, doing more with pencil than pen, and she had rewarded him abundantly by spicy little notes, full of cheer and appreciation. She had no scruples in maintaining this correspondence, for in it she had her father's sanction, and the letters were open to her parents' inspection when they cared to see them. Indeed, Mr. and Mrs.
"How can I distinguish between my friends, when each one surpasses even my ideal of manly action?" "You will some day," he said, thoughtfully. "You cannot help doing so. It is the law of nature. I know I can never be the equal of Lane and Blauvelt." "Arthur," she said, gravely, taking his hand, "let me be frank with you. It will be best for us both.
Blauvelt made light of his hurt, he may find that it is no trifle." "It would seem that I am doomed to have no honorable scars." "Through no fault of yours, Mr. Merwyn. I've thought so much of poor mamma to-day! She must be wild with anxiety about us." "I think not," said Mr. Vosburgh. "I telegraphed to her yesterday and to-day. I admit they were rather misleading messages." From time to time Mr.
You have kept a woman's curiosity in check almost as long as your brave regiment held the enemy, and that's your greatest achievement thus far. Proceed. Captain Blauvelt has enabled me to keep an eye on you till you fell and the enemy charged over you. Now you know just where to begin." "My prosaic story is soon told. Swords and pike-staffs! what a little martinet you are!
He was pale and outwardly impassive, but there was torture in his mind. She thought, pityingly, "In spite of my tears I have a stouter heart than he." "Miss Marian," resumed Blauvelt, "the scenes I am now about to describe are terrible in the extreme, even in their baldest statement.
Tears and laughter mingled with their words; but at last they became grave and quiet as they realized how many brave comrades would march with them no more. In a few moments Blauvelt said, "Come; Miss Marian said she would not take a mouthful of breakfast till you returned with me."
Merwyn shall know to whom I can give my friendship. I do not ask him, or any one, to face these scenes, but my heart is for a man who can face them." Blauvelt felt that he was fortunate indeed.
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