“And some shirts and some socks and some pins and needles—and I want to see mother—and Bobby—and—I’m going.”
“I’m not going to allow you to attempt such a thing!” he said gravely.
“I want to see mother—and to get a new uniform—and other things.”
Dan looked at me as if he thought I was crazy.
“Milicent is going—and I think I ought to go with her.”
“I don’t want Millie to go—I don’t think she ought to try it; and I won’t permit you to go off on such a wild-goose chase.”
I was silent a minute, trying to think how to tell him as respectfully as I could that I differed with him on this point. It all ended by my repeating in a stupid, poll-parrot fashion:
“I’m going with Millie to Baltimore.”
Dan looked at me as if he would like to spank me! Here was his obedient, docile girl-bride blossomed into a contumacious, rebellious wife!
I was ready to cry—nay, I was crying—but I still affirmed that I must go to Baltimore. Dan reasoned and argued, but that didn’t do any good. Then he swore, but swearing didn’t alter the case. The case was, indeed, beyond Dan, but he made a long and hard fight, and didn’t surrender for a long while. I cried all night, and he reasoned all night. When he saw that the case was hopeless, he started us to Petersburg under suitable escort. We had to go first to Petersburg in order to get the money which we wished to take North to exchange for all the goods and chattels we might be able to smuggle South.