"Gary! Oh, he is going to Washington, like the rest of us."
"Which side will he take?"
"You should know, perhaps, better than I," said Thorold. "He always has taken the Southern side, and very exclusively."
"Has taken?" said I. "Do you mean that among the cadets there has been a South and a North—until now, lately?"
"Aye, Daisy, always, since I have been in the Academy. The Southern clique and the Northern clique have been well defined; there is always an assumption of superiority on the one side, and some resenting of it on the other side. It was on that ground Gary and I split."
"Split!" I repeated.
But Thorold laughed and kissed me, and would give me no satisfaction. I began to put things together, though. I saw from Christian's eyes that he had nothing to be ashamed of, in looking back; I remembered Preston's virulence, and his sudden flush when somebody had repeated the word "coward," which he had applied to Thorold. I felt certain that more had been between them than mere words, and that Preston found the recollection not flattering, whatever it was; and having come to this settlement of the matter, I looked up at Thorold.
"My gentle little Daisy!" he said. "I will never quarrel with him again—if I can help it."
"You must quarrel with him, if he is on the wrong side," I answered. "And so must I."