Christie liked romance, and now she had it, with a very sombre
reality to give it an added charm. No Juliet ever welcomed her Romeo
more joyfully than she welcomed David when he paid her a flying
visit unexpectedly; no Bayard ever had a more devoted lady in his
tent than David, when his wife came through every obstacle to bring
him comforts or to nurse the few wounds he received. Love-letters,
written beside watch-fires and sick-beds, flew to and fro like
carrier-doves with wondrous speed; and nowhere in all the brave and
busy land was there a fonder pair than this, although their
honeymoon was spent apart in camp and hospital, and well they knew
that there might never be for them a happy going home together.
In her wanderings to and fro, Christie not only made many new
friends, but met some old ones; and among these one whose unexpected
appearance much surprised and touched her.
She was "scrabbling" eggs in a tin basin on board a crowded
transport, going up the river with the echoes of a battle dying away
behind her, and before her the prospect of passing the next day on a
wharf serving out food to the wounded in an easterly storm.
"O Mrs. Sterling, do go up and see what's to be done! We are all
full below, and more poor fellows are lying about on deck in a
dreadful state.
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