Her uncle caught her in the act and was instantly in a rage.
"Shame upon you!" he cried. "Enemies without and traitors within."
This charge touched the girl to the quick, and she replied with almost equal anger, "I'm no traitor. Where has your loyalty to me been to-day? Look at me, uncle, and fix the fact in your mind, once for all, that I am neither a child nor an idiot. God has given me a mind and a conscience as truly as to you, and I shall use them. This Northern officer says we are safe. I believe it and you will know it in the morning. Now I simply insist that you and aunt treat me with the respect due to my years and station. I've endured too much to-day to be patient under anything more. I meant no disrespect to you in laughing, but I cannot help being glad that instead of all sorts of horrible things happening we are treated with simple and even delicate politeness."
"Yes, brother," added Mrs. Whately, "as far as this man is concerned, you must revise your opinions. There is no deep-laid plot—nothing but what is apparent. I must also urge upon you and sister a change in your treatment of Louise. She will be far more ready to fulfil our hopes when led by affection."
"Well, well, that I should live to see this day!" groaned Mr. Baron. "My ward virtually says that she will do as she pleases. The slaves have been told that they are free and so can do as they please. Henceforth I suppose I am to speak to my niece with bated breath, and be at the beck and call of every Sambo on the place."
"You are not 'weltering in your own blood,' uncle, and the 'roof is not blazing over our heads,'" replied Miss Lou quietly. "You have merely been told that you could have supper when it pleased you and then sleep in peace and safety. Aunt, I will thank you for the key of my trunk. I wish to put my things back in their places."
Mrs. Baron took it from her pocket without a word, and Miss Lou went to her room.
True to her nature, Mrs. Whately began to pour oil on the lacerated feelings of her brother and sister-in-law. "Louise is right," she said. "Things are so much better than we expected—than they might have been—that we should raise our hearts in thankfulness. Just think! If this Northern officer is what you fear, why would he have spared my son, whom he might have killed in fair battle? In his conduct toward the wounded he showed a good, kindly spirit. I can't deny it; and he has been as polite to us as one of our own officers could have been. Think how different it all might have been—my brave son desperately wounded or dead, and unscrupulous men sacking the house! I need not refer to darker fears. I must say that I feel like meeting courtesy with courtesy. Since this Yankee behaves like a generous foe I would like to prove that Southern rebels and slave-drivers, as we are called, can equal him in all the amenities of life which the situation permits."
"Oh, sister!" cried Mrs. Baron, "even a cup of tea would choke me if I drank it in his presence."
But Mr. Baron had lighted his pipe, and reason and Southern pride were asserting themselves under its soothing influence. At last he said, "Well, let us have supper anyway. It is already after the hour."