Practical neighbors had told her that her course was all wrong; that she should be resigned and even cheerful for her children’s sake; that she needed to sleep well and live well, in order that she might have strength to provide for them.  She would make pathetic attempts to follow this sound and thrifty advice, but suddenly when at her work or in her troubled sleep, that awful word “missing” would pierce her heart like an arrow, and she would moan, and at times in the depths of her anguish cry out, “Oh, where is he?  Shall I ever see him again?”

But the unrelenting demands of life are made as surely upon the breaking as upon the happy heart.  She and her children must have food, clothing, and shelter.  Her illness and feebleness at last taught her that she must not yield to her grief, except so far as she was unable to suppress it; that for the sake of those now seemingly dependent upon her, she must rally every shattered nerve and every relaxed muscle.  With a heroism far beyond that of her husband and his comrades in the field, she sought to fight the wolf from the door, or at least to keep him at bay.  Although the struggle seemed a hopeless one, she patiently did her best from day to day, eking out her scanty earnings by the sale or pawning of such of her household goods as she could best spare.  She felt that she would do anything rather than reveal her poverty or accept charity.  Some help was more or less kindly offered, but beyond such aid as one neighbor may receive of another, she had said gently but firmly, “Not yet.”

The Marlows were comparative strangers in the city where they had resided.  Her husband had been a teacher in one of its public schools, and his salary small.  Patriotism had been his motive for entering the army, and while it had cost him a mighty struggle to leave his family, he felt that he had no more reason to hold back than thousands of others.  He believed that he could still provide for those dependent upon him, and if he fell, those for whom he died would not permit his widow and children to suffer.  But the first popular enthusiasm for the war had largely died out; the city was full of widows and orphans; there was depression of spirit, stagnation in business, and a very general disposition on the part of those who had means, to take care of themselves, and provide for darker days that might be in the immediate future.  Sensitive, retiring Mrs. Marlow was not the one to push her claims or reveal her need.  Moreover, she could never give up the hope that tidings from her husband might at any time bring relief and safety.