“But you are a Yankee too, Uncle Ben,” said Jeanne bluntly.
“Ages ago, little one. He has gotten over all that now,” said Madame Vance softly. “After you have been with us awhile you will get over your rank Unionism too.”
Jeanne shook her head decidedly.
“Dear Cherie,” she said, “nothing could ever make me disloyal to my flag. See! I always carry it with me.”
She drew the flag from her bosom and waved it proudly before her. Madame Vance gasped, and her husband’s face darkened perceptibly.
“Little one, you will not carry it while here, will you? To please me, dear, never take it out again.”
“Oh, but I must,” said Jeanne. “I promised my own dear mother that I would look at it every night and I must keep my promise. I wish I could please you, Cherie, but I cannot. But I will do this much. I will not take it out before you any more. I ought to respect your feelings, I know.”
“So much gained,” murmured the lady aside to her husband. To Jeanne she only said quietly:
“Thank you, dear. You are an amiable little thing, and you shall have my favorite darky for your maid while you are here. I will call Snowball and she will help you to dress for dinner.”
“Snowball,” echoed Jeanne.