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Updated: May 19, 2025
So the soldiers fought on, and the women helped as best they might, giving their stockings as bags for grape-shot, and tearing up their clothes to bind up wounds, till they had scarcely a rag to cover them. One, the gallant wife of a private of the 32nd, Bridget Widdowson, stood, sword in hand, over a number of prisoners tied together by a rope.
'I haven't been there for several months. At first I used to go rather frequently, but it's a long way. To this subject Rhoda returned after dinner, when they were cosily settled in the drawing-room. 'Mrs. Widdowson comes here now and then, and we are always very glad to see her. But I can't help thinking she looks rather unhappy. 'I'm afraid she does, assented the other gravely.
He stood on one spot for nearly a quarter of an hour, watching, or appearing to watch, the black, low-flying scud. Their time for dining was seven. Shortly before this Widdowson entered the house and went to the sitting-room; Monica was not there. He found her in the bed-chamber, before the looking-glass. At the sight of his reflected face she turned instantly.
'How is she? 'Not worse, I believe. But so very weak. She wishes me to ask you 'What? His manner did not encourage the poor woman. 'I shall be obliged to tell her something. If I have nothing to say she will fret herself into a dangerous state. She wants to know if you have read her letter, and if if you will see the child. Widdowson turned away and stood irresolute.
'Yes I can think of you as a friend, Mr. Widdowson. A large boat was passing with four or five young men and girls who sang in good time and tune. Only a song of the music-hall or of the nigger minstrels, but it sounded pleasantly with the plash of the oars. A fine sunset had begun to glow upon the river; its warmth gave a tone to Monica's thin cheeks.
'I shall hear what she has to tell me, as she promised. 'Is it is it possible ? The lady's question remained incomplete. Widdowson, though he understood it, vouchsafed no direct answer. Intense suffering was manifest in his face, and at length he spoke vehemently. 'Whatever she tells me how can I believe it? When once a woman has lied how can she ever again be believed?
Monica and her husband, on leaving the house in Queen's Road, walked slowly in the eastward direction. Though night had fallen, the air was not unpleasant; they had no object before them, and for five minutes they occupied themselves with their thoughts. Then Widdowson stopped. 'Shall we go home again? he asked, just glancing at Monica, then letting his eyes stray vaguely in the gloom.
She desired to speak privately with Mildred Vesper, and opportunity might have been made, but, as part of her scheme of self-subdual, this conversation was postponed until the second week. It took place one evening when work was over. 'I have been wanting to ask you, Rhoda began, 'whether you have any news of Mrs. Widdowson. 'I wrote to her not long ago, and she answered from a new address.
Widdowson hoped that it signified a condition for which he was anxiously waiting. That, however, did not seem to be the case. The medical man who was called in asked questions about the patient's mode of life. Did she take enough exercise? Had she wholesome variety of occupation? At these inquiries Widdowson inwardly raged.
There was no misreading his countenance. When Monica had remarked it, she pressed her lips together, and waited for what he would say or do. He said nothing, but presently turned his back upon the waves and began to walk on. Neither spoke until they were in the shelter of the streets; then Widdowson asked suddenly, 'Who is that person? 'I only know her name, and that she goes to Miss Barfoot's.
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