CHAPTER V.
JIMMIE.
There were loving words being breathed into Rose’s ear, when she came back to consciousness, and there was something familiar in the touch of the hand bathing her brow, and smoothing her tangled hair, but Rose was too weak and sick to notice who it was caring for her so tenderly, until she heard the voice saying to her
“Is my daughter better?”
And then she threw herself with a wild scream of joy into the arms which had cradled her babyhood, sobbing piteously:
“Oh, mother, mother, Willie has gone to the war! Willie has gone to the war!”
It was very strange, Rose thought, that her mother’s tears should flow so fast, and her face wear so sad an expression just because of Will, who was nothing but her son-in-law. Then it occurred to her that Tom might be the occasion o
