She looked up at that, saw the glass, and shook her head; “No, no wine for me.”
“But it would be almost treasonable to refuse this,” he insisted. “In the first place it is native Carolina wine we are asked to take; and in the second, it is a toast our bear of the swamps––Mr. Loring––has proposed, ‘our President.’ 289 I evaded my share by being cup-bearer to you.” He offered the glass and looked at her, meaningly, “Will you drink?”
“Only when you drink with me,” she said, and smiled at the grim look touching his face for an instant.
“To the President of the Southern Confederacy?” he asked.
“No!––to our President!”
She took the glass, touched the wine to her lips, and offered the remainder to him, just as Colonel McVeigh entered from the lawn. He heard Captain Monroe say, “With all my heart!” as he emptied the glass. The scene had such a sentimental tinge that he felt a swift flash of jealousy, and realized that Monroe was a decidedly attractive fellow in his own cool, masterful way.
“Ah! a tryst at mid-day?” he remarked, with assumed lightness.
“No; only a parley with the enemy,” she said, and he passed out into the hall, picking up his hat from the table, where he had tossed it when he entered in the morning.
Monroe walked up to the window and back again. She heard him stop beside her, but did not look up.
“I have almost decided to take your advice, and remain only one night instead of two,” he said, at last. “I can’t approve what you are doing here. I can’t help you, and I can’t stay by and be witness to the enchantment which, for some reason, you are weaving around McVeigh.”