“Oh, and mama!”––thus exclaimed Evilena as she was comfortably ensconced in the same chair with that lady––“there is so much news to tell you I don’t know where to begin. But Gertrude sends love––please don’t go, Madame Caron––I am only going to talk about the neighbors. And they are all coming over very soon, and the best of all is, Gertrude has at last coaxed Uncle Matthew (a roguish grimace at the title) to give up Loringwood entirely and come to the Pines. And Dr. Delaven––he’s delightful, mama, when he isn’t teasing folks––he strongly advises them to make the change soon; and, oh, won’t you ask them all over for a few weeks until the Pines is ready? And did you hear about two of their field hands running off? Well, they did. Scip and Aleck; isn’t it too bad? and Mr. Loring doesn’t know 200 it yet, no one dares tell him; and Masterson’s Cynthia had a boy run off, too, and went to the Yankees, they suppose. And old Nelse he got scared sick at a ghost last night while they were ’possum hunting. And, oh, mama, have you heard from Ken?––not a word has come here, and he never even saw Gertrude over there. He must be powerful busy if he could not stop long enough to hunt friends up and say ‘howdy.’”
“Lena, Lena, child!” and the mother sank back in her chair, laughing. “Have they enforced some silent system of existence on you since I have been down at Mobile? I declare, you fairly make my head swim with your torrent of news and questions. Judithe, does not this young lady fulfill the foreign idea of the American girl––a combination of the exclamation and interrogation point?”
Evilena stopped further criticism by kisses.
“I will be good as goodness rather than have Madame Caron make up her mind I am silly the very first day,” she promised, “but, oh, mama, it is so good to have you to talk to, and so delightful of Madame to come with you”––this with a swift, admiring side glance at their visitor––“and, altogether, I’m just in love with the world today.”
Later she informed them that Judge Clarkson would probably drive over that evening, as he was going to Columbia or Savannah––she had forgotten which––and had to go home first. He would have come with her but for a business talk he wanted to have, if Mr. Loring was able, this morning.
“Gertrude coaxed him to stop over and settle something about selling Loringwood. She’s just grieving over the wreck and ruin there, and Mr. Loring never will be able to manage it again. They’ve been offered a lot of money for it by some Orleans people, and Gertrude wants it settled. 201 Aunt Sajane is going to stay until they all come to the Pines.”
“If Judge Clarkson should be going to Savannah you could send your maid in his charge, since she is determined to leave us,” suggested Mrs. McVeigh.
“She would, no doubt, be delighted to go under such escort,” said Judithe, “but her arrangements are made to start early in the morning; it is not likely your friend would be leaving so soon. Then, mademoiselle has said she is not sure but that it is to some other place he goes.”
“Columbia?––yes; and more than likely it is Columbia,” assented Mrs. McVeigh. “He is there a great deal during these troublous times.”
A slight sigh accompanied the words, and Judithe noticed, as she had done often before, the lack of complaint or bewailings of the disasters so appalling to the South, for even the victories were so dearly bought. There was an intense eagerness for news from the front, and when it was read, the tears were silent ones. The women smiled bravely and were sure of victory in the end. Their faith in their men was adorable.