"
And having winged this shaft, perceiving with pleasure that her husband
winced slightly under it, she sailed from the room, ascending the
stairway, and presently paused before the door of Walter's dressing-room.
It was slightly ajar; and pushing it gently open she entered without
knocking.
He stood leaning against the mantel, his tall erect figure, the perfection
of manly grace, his eyes fixed thoughtfully upon the carpet, and his fine,
open, expressive countenance full of a noble sadness.
There was something of motherly pride in the glance that met his as he
looked up at the sound of Mrs. Dinsmore's step. Starting forward, he
gallantly handed her to a seat: then stood respectfully waiting for what
she had to say.
"Walter, my dear boy," she began; "your father and I think we were all a
trifle hard on you this morning."
He colored slightly but made no remark, and she went on. "Of course we
can't believe it possible that a son of ours will ever show himself a
coward; but it is very trying to us, very mortifying, to have you holding
back in this way till all our neighbors and friends begin to hint that you
are disloyal to your native State, and look scornful and contemptuous at
the very mention of your name."
Walter took a turn or two across the room, and coming back to her side,
"Mother," said he, "you know it is my nature to be slow in deciding any
matter of importance, and this is the weightiest one that ever I had to
consider.
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