Daisy In The Field - Page 119/231

There was a lull at this time in the news from home. Both

parties in America were gathering up their strength; and in

the mean time the only affairs we heard of were inconclusive

skirmishes, sometimes turning out for the advantage of one

side, sometimes of the other; but not to signal advantage for

anybody. I hoped, with such a lull, that things might subside

into a state susceptible of composition. I might have

reasoned, if I looked at home, upon the unlikelihood of any

such thing. No news of advantages lost or gained had any

effect upon my mother and brother but to make them more keen

in the cause and more relentless in pursuit of their end. The

hearing of a trifling success was like a taste of blood to the

lion; the loss of Beaufort and its forts was turned into an

occasion of triumph because "the great naval expedition" had

accomplished no greater things. They laughed at McClellan's

review of troops; and counted up the gains his adversaries

were to realise from the co-operation of foreign well-wishers.

And then the taking of Mason and Slidell put them into a fume

of indignation and scorn. My father shared, though more

gently, in all this. I was alone. Could I tell them that my

heart was with the Northern army; and how it went out after

every gleam of one particular sabre?

My mother drew me into society by degrees. I hardly knew where

the line was passed, between quiet conversaziones and

brilliant and courtly assemblies. It was passed when I was

unwitting of it, or when I felt unable to help it. My mother

had been so much alienated by my behaviour toward Marshall and

De Saussure, that I thought it needful to please her by every

means in my power, short of downright violation of conscience.

"Children, obey your parents in the Lord," - I did not forget;

I thought I was doing the very thing. For it was not to please

myself, that I let my mother make me look as she chose and let

her take me - where she would. My heart was too sore to be

ambitious and too sober to feel the flutterings of vanity. I

knew the effect of her doings was often what satisfied her;

but the nearest approach to a thrill of vanity in myself was,

I think, the wish that Christian could see me. And as he could

not, I seemed to wear an armour of proof against other eyes. I

did not care for them.

Nevertheless, I began to be sensible that they cared for me. I

obeyed my mother at first because she signified her will very

absolutely, and allowed me to see that any refusal on my part

would make a breach between us. I left myself in her hands, to

dress and adorn and lead about as she liked; I could not help

it without an effort that would have parted us. And besides, I

believe I accepted these engrossments of society as a sedative

to keep me from thinking. They took a great deal of tine and

occupied my attention while they lasted.