CHAPTER X.
Growing weary of my restless nights, so cramped in the high, old-fashioned pulpit, I sought a room where I could sleep in comfort, and was fortunate enough to find one with my companion of the night, and journey to Fredericksburg—Miss Roberston of the Cavalry Corps,—in a dwelling opposite the hospital.
We were company for each other in the long nights, when groans kept us wakeful, and I learned to appreciate the noble-heartedness of the untiring nurse, whose duties were for humanity's sake, not surely for the twelve dollars a month, and soldier's rations.
That was but a sorry recompense, so far as a return for the days of toil, and the haunted nights, and the scanty fare. Still there was no murmur of discontent—men needed a woman's hand to minister unto them, and in their sore need she withheld not her own, so strong with a brave woman's honest purpose.
Every place was searched by me in vague anticipations of meeting some one—I knew not who—whose desperate case wanted my help that moment. One day I found Private Vanvaulkenburg, wounded in the arm, and I think by the broad smile which
