“April is wonderful,” Dorothea said warmly; “and Harriot is so funny and dear. I know I shall love them. Indeed I loved you all just as soon as I saw you. You were all so good and kind and made me feel welcome right away. In England, now, it would have taken weeks and weeks before I should have been able to talk to you like this.”
“I understand,” Mrs. May agreed, nodding. “In the South you will find that every one is very friendly. In one way or another most of the people down here are kin to each other or else they are friends of our friends, so it is just like one big family. If it wasn’t for this terrible war you would see how happily we live.”
There was a pause for a moment, Dorothea looking out of the window with her face very thoughtful.
“You know, Aunt Parthenia,” she said, after a little, “I saw the soldiers on both sides as I came through.”
“Yes, I know,” Mrs. May replied, “and I thought there was something you didn’t want to talk about.”
“There was,” Dorothea confessed; “I’m sure you’ll understand, Aunt Parthenia, but I didn’t know what the others might think. You see I don’t believe the South can win the war—though I’m awfully for it.”
“What makes you say that, Dorothea?” Mrs. May asked earnestly.
“Because, when I came through the Northern army,” Dorothea explained, “all the men I saw looked well-fed and strong; everything they wanted was at hand to make them comfortable; and they were cheery and joked with each other; they were like boys on a holiday. But when I came through the Confederate lines it was awful, Aunt Parthenia. The men looked half starved. They were in rags and they looked so haggard and drawn, as if they actually suffered. It isn’t fair that they should be expected to fight against those strong men of the North. It isn’t fair, Aunt Parthenia!”
“No, my dear, it isn’t fair,” her aunt agreed. “I wish this war had never come. There are those who still doubt my loyalty to the Confederacy, for I am not afraid to say we should never have seceded, yet I am loyal to the South. It is my home, and the home of all my friends and relatives. I love it, but I have seen for a long time that there is only more suffering and misery in store for us—and, in the end, defeat. You will soon find to what shifts we have already been put to manage to live. And here in Georgia we are very well off. You are right that it isn’t fair to ask our men to go on fighting against overwhelming odds; but, my dear, don’t talk about that here. The feeling against the North is very bitter and any one who does not proclaim perfect confidence that the South will win is treated like a traitor.”
“Of course, I’ve always wanted you to win,” Dorothea affirmed once more.