Daisy In The Field

My room was at the back of the house. Consequently I heard and

saw nothing of the outer world till I came down to the

breakfast-room. Nobody was there yet, and I went to the

window. The first thing I saw then made my heart stand still.

A group was gathered just before the window, on the sidewalk.

In the midst a soldier, one of a gay Zouave regiment, not at

all gay now, stood talking to a little crowd of listeners;

talking in a pouring rain, which nobody seemed to care about.

He was wet; his bright uniform was stained and draggled; he

had no musket; and his tasseled cap sat on a head which in

every line and movement expressed defeat and disgrace. So they

all listened who stood around; I read it as well as if I had

heard the words they were hearing. I saw dejection, profound

sorrow, absorbed attention, utter forgetfulness of present

bodily discomfort. I noticed that one man who carried an

umbrella had put it down, and stood listening in the rain.

Occasionally the soldier raised his arm to eke out his words

with a gesture; and then moved a step as if to go on, but they

closed around him again and staid him with eager questions or

urgings. I was very near throwing up the sash to ask what it

all was; and then I thought, what matter! I should know soon

enough, But I could not move from the window; and Mrs.

Sandford entering and seeing me there came and looked over my

shoulder. I did not know it, till I heard her "Good Heavens! - Daisy, my dear, what is the matter?"

"We shall hear presently," I said, turning away from the

window.

"But what is it?" - And Mrs. Sandford first took my place, and

then did what I had been tempted to do; - threw up the sash.

"What is the matter?" she said. "Is there news. Men, is there

news?"

I do not know what was answered; I did not hear; I had gone

into the middle of the room; but Mrs. Sanford closed the

window presently and came to me, looking even pale. A rare

thing for her.

"Daisy, there is trouble," she said.

"Yes, -" I answered.

"How do you know? They say - they say, the army is all cut to

pieces!"

I could not speak about it. We knew nothing yet; but Mrs.

Sandford went on "He says, everybody is killed. All routed and destroyed, the

army is. Can it be possible?"

I thought it was very possible: I never had doubted but that

the Southerners - as a body - were the best fighters. But I

said nothing; while Mrs. Sandford poured out sorrows and fears

and speculations in a breath. I could have smiled, but that I

could not have smiled. We stood still, looking at each other,

nobody remembering breakfast. I was thinking, if the cause was

lost, where would Mr. Thorold be then. And I ceased to hear

Mrs. Sandford.