Mrs. Grant and Madame Jule Read Online Free PDF Page A

week.’”
    “A week,” Emma exclaimed, bouncing in her chair. “How wonderful!”
    “That proves you couldn’t’ve been dreaming about Grant,” scoffed Papa. “Say what you will about his queer abolitionist notions, he has sense enough not to overstay his welcome.”
    “I know it was the lieutenant,” said Julia mildly. She had seen him so vividly, heard his own true voice, inhaled deeply of his scent, slightly woodsy and spicy with a sweet whiff of horses—but of course, it had not really been him, only his dream phantom. And yet she wished she had reached out to touch his face.
    “Julia, darling,” said Mamma, “you know this dream won’t come true. Lieutenant Grant is at this very moment sailing down the Mississippi to reunite with the Fourth. He’s surely already far below the mouth of the Ohio.”
    Julia’s soaring spirits abruptly came back down to earth. “I know, but it was a lovely dream.”
    Mamma smiled sympathetically and her sisters murmured agreement.
    “I suppose it could still come true,” Papa remarked. When they all turned to look at him in surprise, he added, “Julia didn’t say what year it was in her dream. Maybe Lieutenant Grant will grace us with a visit some Monday come winter.”
    “Papa,” scolded Nell, and Emma’s mouth fell open in protest, but Julia only laughed and shook her head at her incorrigible father. He could tease all he liked, because she knew it was a Monday in her dream, and Lieutenant Grant had not been dressed for winter weather.
    Sunday passed, and Monday morning found Julia in the garden, staking her waterlogged bean plants in the rain-soaked soil. Jule stood nearby, shooing away the gnats and no-see-ums from her mistress’s arms and face, ready to hand over the shears and the ball of twine at her request. Suddenly Julia heard hoofbeats, and when she glanced over her shoulder she spied a man on horseback coming up the zigzag path. “Jule,” she exclaimed. “See him for me.”
    Jule studied the rider intently, shading her eyes with her hand. “He’s covered in mud so I can’t be sure,” she said, “but I think that’s your lieutenant.”
    Julia’s heart thumped and she scrambled to her feet, brushing the soil from her hands. “It is,” she cried, dropping her trowel and lifting her skirts as she hurried to welcome him. The dogs barked happily; Emma burst from the house and flew down the path ahead of her, halting a few paces away as the lieutenant reined in his mare.
    “What happened to you?” exclaimed Emma. “Did you fall in a lake?”
    As Julia drew closer, she saw that Lieutenant Grant and his horse, too, were soaking wet. “We were submerged fording the creek,” he admitted. His muddy uniform flopped about his slender frame like rags used to mop up after a deluge.
    “The quiet little Gravois?” Julia said, astonished. “The one you said didn’t have enough water to turn a coffee mill?”
    “It’s not so quiet now.” Though bedraggled and shivering, the lieutenant dismounted with effortless grace. “The Gravois and all the little creeks feeding it are swollen and raging. I was almost swept away, but my horse can swim well enough and I clung to her saddle.”
    Julia felt a pang of fear, but it swiftly faded when she reminded herself that he was fine; he was fine and he was there. “You must come inside and dry yourself,” she said, glancing over her shoulder as Gabriel came running to take the horse’s reins. “My brother John surely has some clothes you could borrow. Frederick’s would hang on you like a tent.”
    The lieutenant willingly allowed himself to be led inside, where Mamma took charge of their half-drowned visitor and shooed Julia off to attend to her own toilet. With Jule’s help, she quickly washed and changed into a prettier frock and fixed her hair. When Lieutenant Grant descended, scrubbed free of the mud and clad in her eldest brother’s old suit, Julia, her sisters, and her mother were waiting for him