These words were said without the least heat of manner—almost languidly; but they put Preston in a fume. I could not catch his excitement in the least; but I saw it. He stood up again, hesitated, opened his mouth to speak and shut it without speaking, turned and walked away and came back to me. I did not wait for him then.
"You have offended one of the King's children," I said; "and the King is offended."
"Daisy," said Preston, in a sort of suppressed fury, "one would think you had turned Abolitionist; only you never heard of such a thing."
"What is it?" said I, shutting my eyes.
"It is just the meanest and most impudent shape a Northerner can take; it is the lowest end of creation, an Abolitionist is; and a Yankee is pretty much the same thing!"
"Dr. Sandford is a Yankee," I remarked.
"Did you get it from him?" Preston asked, fiercely.
"What?" said I, opening my eyes.
"Your nonsense. Has he taught you to turn Abolitionist?"