“Best?” Dolly blurted out. “How can you say that, when—when—”
“Dolly, you are not really foolish about him, are you?” Mrs. Barclay's face dropped into deeper seriousness.
Dolly looked away and was silent for a moment; then she faltered: “I don't know, mother, I—I'm afraid if I keep on feeling like I do now I 'll never get over it.”
“Ah, but you 'll not keep on feeling like you do now,” consoled the older woman. “Of course, right now, just after seeing how hard he took it, you will kind o' sympathize with him and want to help him; but that will all pass away. I remember when I was about your age I had a falling out with Will Despree—a young man my father didn't like because his grandfather had been an overseer. And, do you know, I thought I would actually kill myself. I refused to eat a bite and threatened to run away with Will. To this day I really don't know what I would have done if your grandfather hadn't scared him away with a shot-gun. Will kept writing notes to me. I was afraid to answer them, but my father got hold of one and went after him on a fast horse. Will's family heard what was up and they kept him out in the swamp for a few days, and then they sent him to Texas. The whole Despree family took it up and talked scand'lous about us.”
“And you soon got over it, mother?” asked Dolly, almost in a tone of dismay.
“Well,” said Mrs. Barclay, reflectively, “Will acted the fool so terribly; he wasn't out in Texas three months before he sent back a marked paper with an article in it about his engagement to the daughter of a rich man who, we found out afterwards, used to keep a livery-stable; then I reckon hardly any girl would keep caring for a boy when his folks was telling such lies about her family.”
Dolly was staring studiously at the speaker.
“Mother,” she asked, “don't you believe in real love?”
Mrs. Barclay laughed as if highly amused. “I believe in a different sort to the puppy love I had for that boy. Then after that there was another young man that I thought more of, if anything, than I did of Will; but he was as poor as Job's turkey, and my folks was all crazy for me 'n' your pa, who I'd never seen, to get married. I held out against the idea, just like you are doing with Frank, I reckon; but when your pa come with his shiny broadcloth coat and spotted silk vest—no, it was satin, I think, with red spots on it—and every girl in town was crazy to catch him, and there was no end of reports about the niggers he owned and his high connections—well, as I say, it wasn't a week before I was afraid he'd see Joe Tinsley and hear about me 'n' him. My father was in for the match from the very jump, and so was your pa's folks. He put up at our house with his nigger servant and didn't want to go about town much. I reckon I was pleased to have him pick me out, and so we soon fixed it up. Lordy, he only had to mention Joe Tinsley to me after we got married to make me do anything he wanted. To this day he throws him up to me, for Joe never did amount to anything. He tried to borrow money from your pa after you was born. The neighbors had to feed his children.”
“But you loved father, didn't you?” Dolly breathed, in some relief over what she thought was coming.