Mrs. Reckenthorpe was nearly twenty years younger than her husband, but even with this advantage on her side Ada’s tidings were almost too much for her. She, however, at last managed to consult the major, and he resolved upon appealing to the generosity of his younger son. By this time the Confederate general was warming himself in the kitchen, having declared that his brother might do as he pleased;—he would not skulk away from his father’s house in the night.
“Frank,” said the father, as his younger son sat silently thinking of what had been told him, “it cannot be your duty to be false to your father in his own house.”
“It is not always easy, Sir, for a man to see what is his duty. I wish that either he or I had not come here.”
“But he is here; and you, his brother, would not take advantage of his coming to his father’s house?” said the old man.
“Do you remember, Sir, how he told me last year that if ever he met me on the field he would shoot me like a dog?”
“But, Frank, you know that he is the last man in the world to carry out such a threat. Now he has come here with great danger.”
“And I have come with none; but I do not see that that makes any difference.”
“He has put up with it all that he may see the girl he loves.”
“Psha!” said Frank, rising up from his chair. “When a man has work to do, he is a fool to give way to play. The girl he loves! Does he not know that it is impossible that she should ever marry him? Father, I ought to insist that he should leave this house as a prisoner. I know that that would be my duty.”
“You would have, Sir, to bear my curse.”