Amory.
"We have got to amputate Porter's arm this morning, and he won't
consent unless you are with him. You will come, of course?" added
the surgeon to Christie, having tried and found her a woman with no
"confounded nerves" to impair her usefulness.
So matron and nurse go back to their duty, and dying Bartlett and
suffering Porter are all the more tenderly served for that wasted
minute.
Like David, Christie had enlisted for the war, and in the two years
that followed, she saw all sorts of service; for Mrs. Amory had
influence, and her right-hand woman, after a few months'
apprenticeship, was ready for any post. The gray gown and comforting
face were known in many hospitals, seen on crowded transports, among
the ambulances at the front, invalid cars, relief tents, and food
depots up and down the land, and many men went out of life like
tired children holding the hand that did its work so well.
David meanwhile was doing his part manfully, not only in some of the
great battles of those years, but among the hardships, temptations,
and sacrifices of a soldiers' life. Spite of his Quaker ancestors,
he was a good fighter, and, better still, a magnanimous enemy,
hating slavery, but not the slave-holder, and often spared the
master while he saved the chattel.
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