“Cherie told me,” answered Jeanne her heart sinking at his expression. “Aren’t we going, dear uncle?”
“Well, I rather guess not,” said Mr. Vance emphatically. “I think we’ve had enough of the Yankees without going where they are. Enough to last us a lifetime.”
“Why did you tell me such a thing?” burst from Jeanne turning upon her aunt with indignation.
“Because, my dear little Yankee, I wanted the pleasure of your company, of course,” replied Madame mockingly.
“That is not true,” said Jeanne boldly. “You do not like me, Aunt Clarisse,” dropping the Cherie which she seldom afterward used.
“No? you want the truth then?” said the woman suddenly. “Because I hate you for being a Yankee.”
“But you did like me at first and I was a Yankee then,” and the girl shrank from the light in the other’s eyes.
“Yes; for a time, but I soon tired of you. You were too independent, and had views that were tiresome to me. I might have loved you had you yielded your will to mine. But you would not. You, a mere girl, set your judgment up against mine, although I granted your lightest wish. Then you told that Yankee General that your uncle had given you all the property and he seized it in your name. Think you that I would let you stay to enjoy our property when we were driven from the city? Oh, I saw through your artfulness! But you shall not have the property if that Beast does!”
“I did not want your property,” replied Jeanne, her face becoming very pale as she heard her aunt’s words. “Why should I care for it? I want only to go to my home. Please let me go back, Aunt Clarisse. I will beg General Butler to let you have your property again and to send me home. Truly, I do not want anything of yours. Let me go back.”
“Never,” cried the other angrily. “Who would think that a puny faced thing like you could be so sly!”