The second day after this meeting we were at breakfast, sitting somewhat stiffly at the table, when my boy Sam, whom Mary had just sent over to Harrison's to find out how he did, brought a note in answer, saying that he had almost entirely recovered and hoped to have the pleasure of meeting her that morning. Barron and Will were still staying at the Hall and we had all been somewhat reserved in manner in spite of the old Captain's jests. Although there had been no serious outcome to the affair, a meeting of that kind, no matter how common the occurrence, always makes women a little distant and cold in manner to the parties concerned. This is possibly because a woman is somewhat more civilized than man, and anything that savors of brutality or fierceness, always is more revolting to her than to the less artificial being.
I have said the occurrence of such affairs was common enough in the old days, before the practice of putting grooves in pistols and making them as accurate as rifles to a steady hand, became general. After that men became more careful about abusing the code and getting into scrapes, for the pistol has always been recognized as a weapon for gentlemen in Virginia. But I must confess, however, that meetings have always been numerous enough, and for the most trivial causes, on the soil of the grand old commonwealth.
After Mary had read the note from Harrison she became much more civil to Barron, and even my mother's stern dignity thawed a little under the prospect of a renewal of social intercourse with the master of the Harrison plantation.
Mary was only nineteen, and although southern girls are women of that age, she possessed a great deal of that childlike simplicity, which is, or is not, so acceptable to the majority of men. For my part, however, I have always been ungallant enough to believe that a woman affects much.
Will had been devotion itself for two years past at Judkins' Hall, for he lived only a few miles away near his family's old country seat at Westover, and consequently found it quite easy to see the inmates of the Hall several times a week even when living at home. He was my favorite cousin, and it was almost painful to see his spirits as much affected by my sister's as a barometer is by the weather.
"Why don't you say something," she said to him, after reading the note and watching the quiet, grave look on his face.
"What shall I say?" he answered, smiling with her, "I'm here to talk to you." And in truth he did appear to be always around for that purpose, but never able to raise his voice to the occasion.
"I don't know whether you are or not. I've been reading about a man who carried on an affair simply by whistling. But even that would hardly apply to you after taking part in that duel. You certainly would hardly care even to whistle to me, or you would not have gone with them. Perhaps you are here to eat and fight."
"You invited me to breakfast."