“I do not pretend to pit my imperfect knowledge against yours, Major. There may be Northerners who have gentlemanly instincts. That, as may be, I refuse to be beholden to one of them. They were our enemies and they are still my enemies. They killed my brother John; they brought ruin to our land.”
“The killing, madam, was not all on their side, I take satisfaction in recalling. And if they brought distress to the South they have since very nobly assisted us to restore it.”
“My brother has said many times,” replied the lady, “that he might in time forgive the North for knocking us down but that he could never forgive it for helping us up. You have heard him say that, Major?”
“I have, my dear Miss India, I have. And yet I venture to say that had the Lord spared Lamar for another twenty years he would have modified his convictions.”
“Never,” said Miss India, sternly; “never!”
“You may be right, my dear lady, but there was something else I have often heard him say.”
“And pray what is that?”
“A couplet of Mr. Pope’s, madam: