"No, not by any means; they have been having only too much, of their own way and domineering over the rest of the nation. Slavery has had by no means a good effect upon them; it has made them proud, haughty, heartless, selfish, and cruel."

"No," said her Uncle Albert, "they have been the oppressors rather than the oppressed; caring only for getting and keeping wealth and power for themselves, and treating their fellow-citizens of the North as beneath them; 'the mud-sills of the North,' they are calling us."

"It is easy to call names," remarked William; "that sort of warfare requires neither courage nor talent; and so long as they content themselves with that the North will, I think, let them alone severely; but let them secede and attempt to set up a separate government and it is at least doubtful if the loyal North will continue to let them alone."

Ethel listened eagerly and her fears were relieved for a time. But the very next day came the news that South Carolina had seceded, and it seemed no one could tell what would follow. The daily papers were read with eager interest. The Southern leaders seemed to be crazed, and whirled their States out of the Union one after another without pausing to learn the wishes of the rest of the people; many of whom were strongly opposed to their action and certainly had as indisputable a right to remain in the Union as those leaders to go out.

Ethel hardly understood what was going on, but continued to read the papers and listen to the talk of her elders with a dazed and confused feeling that a great danger was drawing near.

But one Sat.u.r.day evening, April 13, 1861, news came flashing over the wires that almost struck the hearers dumb with astonishment and dismay.

This was the despatch: "Fort Sumter has fallen after a terrific bombardment of thirty-six hours."

People heard it with sinking of hearts. Was the Union to be destroyed?

Was it, could it be possible, that those who should have loved and honored the dear old flag--the beautiful, starry emblem of our liberties--had so insulted it? It was a bitter thought, and men wept as at the loss of a dear and honored friend.

The Sunday that followed was a sad one; but by Monday morning a reaction had come; at whatever cost the nation should live was the verdict of the people; the President had written with his own hand a proclamation, and the telegraph was flashing it east and west to every city and town:

"I, Abraham Lincoln, President of the United States, in virtue of the power in me vested by the Const.i.tution and the laws, have thought fit to call forth, and do call forth, the militia of the several States of the Union to the aggregate number of seventy-five thousand, in order to suppress this combination against the laws, and to cause the laws to be duly executed."

At the call patriotism awoke and showed itself in a furor of love to the Union and the flag as the emblem of its power and glory, and rapid voluntary enlistments for its defence followed, soon furnishing more troops than the President had called for.

The young men in the Eldon families were as full of patriotic excitement as any others, George and Albert being among the first volunteers in their State, their fathers giving a ready consent, mothers and sisters also, though many and bitter tears were shed over the parting, by Ethel as well as the nearer relatives, for she had grown to love them both, especially her cousin George.

Then the mothers and older girls joined the aid societies and busied themselves with work for the soldiers--making shirts, knitting stockings, sc.r.a.ping lint--and Ethel, full of interest for the cause and of pity for those who must do the fighting for the Union, spent as much time as could be spared from lessons and waiting upon her aunt and cousins, in sharing in those labors; doing so gladly and without any urging or solicitation; she only wished herself old enough to be a nurse, since, being neither boy nor man, she could not enlist as a soldier.

The younger children, too, were anxious to help and took such part in the work as their tender years permitted. It was hoped the war would not last very long; almost everybody thought it would be over in a few months; yet no one could be certain that his or her dear ones might not be killed or sorely wounded in the meantime, or that the struggle might not be prolonged far beyond the time for which enlistments were made at the start.

Mrs. Weston and Mrs. Keith had not forgotten the Eldon children or ceased to feel an interest in them, and occasionally Ethel had a letter from one or the other, which she answered with great painstaking, telling frankly such news of herself, brother, and sisters as she thought they would care to hear.

A letter from Mrs. Weston came for her about the time that her cousins left with the other Philadelphia troops in response to the President's call, and from it she learned that Mr. Keith, too, had enlisted; also some of his brothers living in Indiana.

"And now," continued Mrs. Weston, "we women who cannot do the fighting, are banding together to do all in our power to add to the comfort of our soldiers engaged in the struggle to save our dear country from being rent in pieces. We expect to be very busy, but not too busy to be glad to see you and your brother and sisters if you are allowed to pay us a visit this summer. Mrs. Rupert Keith will probably be with us for a time, perhaps all summer, but that need not interfere with a visit from you little folks."

That invitation Ethel and the others were allowed to accept in the summer vacation. How much had happened meantime! the attack on the Ma.s.sachusetts troops as they pa.s.sed through Baltimore in response to the President's call; the seizure of Harper's Ferry and Norfolk Navy Yard, besides several battles, some in the East and some in the West.

And the very day of their arrival at Mr. Keith's came the sad news of the battle of Bull Run, speedily followed by the President's call for three hundred thousand more men to suppress the rebellion.

It was a time full of excitement, of almost heart-breaking distress, over the disaster, followed by the determination that the rebellion must and should be crushed, cost what it might.

Mrs. Rupert Keith was in sore anxiety and distress till the welcome news arrived that her husband, though in the battle, had been neither wounded nor taken prisoner. The other ladies, though in deep distress for the land they loved, were suffering less keenly than she, as they knew that Mr. Donald Keith was too far West to have been in the battle.

Ethel and Blanche wept bitterly, fearing that their cousins George and Albert had been in the fight and were killed or wounded. But in a day or two a letter from Dorothy brought the welcome news that though among the troops engaged, they had escaped unharmed.

CHAPTER XIV.

As the war went on and Ethel heard frequent allusions among the older people to its great expense and the rapid rise in the price of all the necessaries of life, she felt an increasing desire to be able to support herself, and her brother and sisters. Except to them she said nothing to any one of her relatives of that ardent wish, though constantly revolving plans in her mind and asking help of G.o.d to carry out some one of them.

She was so young, however, that for several years praying, thinking, and trying to learn every useful art that those about her could teach, was all she could do.

Every summer she, Blanche, Harry, and Nannette had the great pleasure of a visit to Mr. Donald Keith's; and to the ladies there Ethel opened her heart, earnestly asking advice as to her future course.

Both replied, "You are too young yet to go into any kind of business, and are doing the right thing in trying to learn all you can." That gave her great encouragement, though she felt it hard to wait, and often wished she could grow up faster.

The Cootes had moved away in less than a year after the children were taken from them, and another and very different man, with a lovely wife and several children, had taken charge of the church and possession of the parsonage; all of which added very much to Ethel's enjoyment of her visit to that neighborhood.

Both there and at home the war was ever the princ.i.p.al and most absorbing topic of conversation; each victory for the National arms brought joy--alas! not unmingled with poignant regret, often almost heart-breaking sorrow for the slain--to each family. George and Albert Eldon were in many engagements, both were wounded at different times, yet they escaped without loss of life or limb. First one and then the other came home on a short furlough--for they had re-enlisted for the war--were made much of by friends and relatives, their parents and sisters in particular, and wept over anew when at the expiration of their time of leave they went back to rejoin their regiment; for they belonged to the same one.

Mrs. Keith or her mother occasionally wrote to Ethel. In March of 1865 a letter came, telling the young girl they would be in the city the next day to get a sight of Mr. Rupert Keith--who had been at home for a time, a paroled prisoner, but was now returning to his regiment, having been exchanged--and of his nephews, Percy Landreth and Stuart Ormsby, lads of seventeen, who had just enlisted and were with their uncle on their way to the seat of war--and inviting her to meet them at the station, as they would like to see her and felt sure she would like to see the soldiers, who were ready to give their lives for the salvation of their country.

Ethel was delighted and easily obtained permission to go.

The troops dined in Philadelphia, and the Keith party had time for a brief interview with their relatives and friends with whom Ethel was.

She was introduced to and shook hands with them. She was pleased with the looks of both uncle and nephews, and their evident ardent devotion to the cause of the Union for whose defence they had enlisted.

She and others watched with tear-dimmed eyes as again the troops took up their line of march for the South, keeping step to the music of the band. Would they ever tread those streets again? or were they doomed to die on some battlefield, or starve and freeze in those filthy prison-pens of Andersonville, Belle Isle, and Libby? Ah, who could say?

And when would this dreadful war be over?

The last soldier had disappeared from sight, and with a sigh Mrs. Keith turned to Ethel.

"We have a little shopping to do, my dear," she said; "so will have to bid you good-by unless you may go with us and care to do so."

"Thank you, ma'am, I think I must go home now, when I have done an errand or two for Aunt Augusta and Cousin Adelaide," replied the young girl. "But aunt told me to invite you ladies to go home with me to dinner. Won't you?"

"No, my dear; we must finish our shopping and hurry home to our little folks, who are sure to be wanting mother and grandma. Take our thanks to your aunt, and tell her we hope to see her at our house one of these days."

So the good-bys were said, and the two ladies walked away in one direction and Ethel in another.

She visited several of the larger stores, making small purchases with which she had been entrusted, then turned into a side street and was pursuing her homeward way, when pa.s.sing a drygoods retail store some little fancy articles in the window attracted her attention, and she went in to look at them more closely and price them.

She was waited on by a middle-aged woman of very pleasing countenance, with whom she presently fell into conversation. There were ready-made articles of women's and children's wear on the counter and in the show case, and in the back part of the store was a sewing machine with a partly finished garment upon it.

"I see you have some very pretty ap.r.o.ns and other ready-made things for children," remarked Ethel, "and you make them yourself, I suppose?"

glancing toward the machine as she spoke.

"Yes, miss, but I don't get much time for sewing since I have no one but myself to tend the store; except when mother finds time now and then to wait on a customer. That's not often, though, for the house-work and the children keep her busy pretty much all the time from daylight to dark."

"Then I should think it might pay you to have a young girl to wait on customers."

"Yes, miss, if I could get the right sort; but most young things are giddy and thoughtless, some inclined to be saucy to customers, and others not perfectly honest. I've had several that tried me in those ways; then I had a really good, honest, and capable one; but she had to leave because her father and brothers went off to the war, the only sister left at home took sick, and she--Susy, the one that was with me--had to go and help the poor mother to do the work and take care of the invalid."

A thought--a hope that here might be an opening for her--had struck Ethel, and timidly she put a few questions in regard to the work required, the time that must be given to it, and the wages paid.

The woman answered her queries pleasantly and patiently, then asked her if she knew of someone who wanted such a situation and would be at all likely to suit.

"No, I--I am not certain, but I think perhaps she might if--if her friends won't object," stammered Ethel confusedly and with a vivid blush.