“Quite true, my little girl. But you will see Peter and Mirandy and Lucy Ann and Sally and Jim Henry and Tasso and the rest of them all developing into Aunt Tulips and Uncle Hectors and eating up the substance of their masters.”
“Well, we won’t say anything more on that subject.”
“But you should be cautious in expressing your opinion in these dangerous times if things are as they appear to be between you and Neville.” It was the first time that Lyddon had ever alluded to the secret tie between Angela and Neville. Angela’s face grew pale when she should have blushed. She drew back and scrutinized Lyddon closely under her narrow lids with their long, dark lashes.
“Of course, Neville will go with his State,” she said after a pause. But there was no note of conviction in her voice.
“Don’t be sure of that; Neville will do what he thinks right, but his ideas may not be yours nor even those of his father and mother, and you must make up your mind in advance what to do when the hour of fate strikes. It will be asking more courage of you than even a courageous woman possesses, to take sides with Neville in case he remains in the United States Army.”
Lyddon, like Neville, had unwittingly touched the responsive cord in Angela’s heart. The idea that if she refused to stand by Neville she would be reckoned a coward was the strongest motive in the world to incline her to go with Neville.
Toward twelve o’clock Colonel Tremaine, accompanied by Archie, was seen coming down the lane and presently dismounted disconsolately. He was anxiously awaited by Hector, who had not the slightest desire to keep within ten feet of Colonel Tremaine in case the colonel’s military services should be accepted. Mrs. Tremaine and Angela were in the garden superintending the trimming up of the shrubbery and hastened to the gate to meet the returning absentees. Lyddon, who was sauntering about with a book in his pocket, came up to hear the history of the morning’s adventures. Peter was on hand to take the horses and as he had aspirations to “go wif Marse Richard to de war,” took the liberty after the negro fashion of listening to what his superiors had to say. But Peter’s interest was not a patch on Hector’s, whose black face had taken on a queer shade of ash color at the prospect of accompanying Colonel Tremaine upon a campaign.
“Well, my dearest Sophie,” said the colonel petulantly, as soon as Mrs. Tremaine had got through the garden gate, “I have been most unhandsomely treated this day, most unhandsomely, and by two men whom I regarded as lifelong friends and between whose ancestors and mine an intimacy of generations has subsisted. I allude to Dr. Yelverton and Colonel Carey.”
“They treated me as mean as dirt,” growled Archie.
“They did, my son?” asked Mrs. Tremaine.