“You will hear only that side of the matter in this house, honey,” Mrs. May cautioned. “We all want the South to win, now war is here; but some of us are very sorry that it was ever brought about. It was the politicians did it, and you will do well to remember that there are two sides to the story.”
“Of course I don’t know very much about it,” Dorothea confessed. “Father, you know, doesn’t talk about the war at all, even to me. But it’s so different in the North. They have so much, and somehow it’s natural to want the weaker side to win. But, Aunt Parthenia, it is hard to believe that Mr. Lincoln is the cruel man they say he is down here. Once you’ve seen him and talked to him, you just can’t believe that.”
“I am sure he is the best friend the South has, my dear,” Mrs. May half whispered; “but that is quite between ourselves. I shouldn’t dare say it to any one else I know. Particularly to April. Remember, honey, she is a very staunch Rebel.”
“I always think that mother would have been a Rebel, too,” Dorothea said softly. “I fancy that’s the reason I am one.”
“You seem a very mild Rebel,” Mrs. May laughed, getting to her feet; “and you’ll be a very tired one if you don’t rest a little. Remember you have a lot of people to meet to-night and I want my Susie’s baby to do her mother justice.” She rose to her feet and, leaning down, kissed the girl again. “I am glad to have you here, dear, for your own sake as well as for your mother’s.”
Dorothea’s heart was too full to make a reply, but she hugged her aunt, who understood, and a moment later left the girl alone.
CHAPTER VI
RED STRINGS
One of those most deeply interested in the arrival of Dorothea was Lucy, the colored girl whom Mrs. May had appointed to attend upon her niece. Her mistress’s pretty clothes set the little maid in an ecstasy of delight and she would have liked nothing better than to dress Dorothea in all of them, one after the other, to see how they looked. She was ready for all sorts of gossip, and while she combed and braided her young lady’s hair she talked at a great rate of the quality folks in the neighborhood, of “Ol’ Miss,” as she called Mrs. May, and “Young Miss,” meaning April. A good deal of the talk Dorothea could make neither head nor tail of, but she liked to listen to the soft Southern accents and smiled more than once at the unfamiliar expressions, of which she comprehended but half the meaning.
She was almost dressed when there was a knock at the door and Miss Imogene floated into the room with her bright, bird-like air. She cocked her head on one side as she surveyed Dorothea and then nodded as if satisfied.