This was soon ready; some bread, without butter, was placed upon the little table; and the meal was the most cheerful and happy imaginable. “Oh, my dear Mr. Blocque!” I could not help saying to myself, “keep your champagne, and canvass-backs, and every luxury, and welcome! I like dry bread and tea, with this company, better!”
I have not room to repeat the charming words, mingled with laughter, of the young women, on that evening. Their presence was truly like sunshine, and you could see the reflection of it upon the old statesman’s countenance.
Only once that countenance was overshadowed. I had uttered the name of Willie Davenant, by accident; and then all at once remembering the scene at Culpeper Court-House, had looked quietly at Judge Conway and Miss Virginia. A deep frown was on his face—that of the young girl was crimson with blushes, and two tears came to her eyes, as she caught her father’s glance of displeasure.
I hastened to change the topic—to banish the dangerous subject; and in a few moments everybody was smiling once more. Miss Georgia, in her stately and amusing way, was relating their experiences from a scouting party of the enemy, at “Five Forks.”
“I heard something of this from old Juba,” said the Judge; “you do not mention your deliverer, however.”
“Our deliverer, papa?”
“General Mohun.”
Miss Georgia unmistakably blushed in her turn.
“Oh, I forgot!” she said, carelessly, “General Mohun did drive them off. Did I not mention it?—I should have done so before finishing, papa.”
As she spoke, the young lady happened to catch my eye. I was laughing quietly. Thereupon her head rose in a stately way—a decided pout succeeded—finally, she burst into laughter.