Camp MacDermit with its dreary associations and
surroundings faded gradually from my mind, like a dream.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
* *
The year of 1879 brought us several changes. My little daughter
was born in mid-summer at our old home in Nantucket. As I lay
watching the curtains move gently to and fro in the soft
sea-breezes, and saw my mother and sister moving about the room,
and a good old nurse rocking my baby in her arms, I could but
think of those other days at Camp Apache, when I lay through the
long hours, with my new-born baby by my side, watching, listening
for some one to come in. There was no one, no woman to come,
except the poor hard-working laundress of the cavalry, who did
come once a day to care for the baby.
Ah! what a contrast! and I had to shut my eyes for fear I should
cry, at the mere thought of those other days.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
* * * *
Jack took a year's leave of absence and joined me in the autumn
at Nantucket, and the winter was spent in New York, enjoying the
theatres and various amusements we had so long been deprived of.
Here we met again Captain Porter and Carrie Wilkins, who was now
Mrs. Porter. They were stationed at David's Island, one of the
harbor posts, and we went over to see them.
