The Southern soldiers, understanding so well the relation between the girl and the old woman, agreed with many good-natured protestations, offering to share with Aun’ Jinkey their rude breakfast.

By the time the girl had returned to the house, she found that Zany and others had prepared a second breakfast in the dining-room for the family and such of the officers whose wounds were so slight as to permit their presence at the table.  Miss Lou was placed between her cousin and a young, dark-eyed officer who was introduced as Captain Maynard.  He also carried his left arm in a sling.

Mrs. Whately sat in Mr. Baron’s place, since he, after a night’s vigils, had retired to obtain a little sleep.  “Louise,” said the lady, “you will have to begin being useful at once.  You have a disabled man on either side of you for whom you must prepare food.”

“Miss Baron,” said Captain Maynard gallantly, “I am already more than reconciled to my wound.  Anything that you prepare for me will be ambrosia.”

Whately frowned as he heard these words and saw the immediate impression made by his cousin upon his brother officer; but a warning glance from his mother led him to vie in compliments.  Before very long Maynard remarked sotto voce, “If you aid in healing the wounds made by the Yanks, Miss Baron, who will heal the wounds you make?”

“I shall not make any, sir.  Such thoughts, even in jest, wound me at this time.  Please excuse me, I’ve had all the breakfast I wish, and I cannot rest till I am doing something for those who are suffering so much.”

He rose instantly and drew back her chair.  In sitting down again, he encountered Whately’s eyes, and recognized the jealousy and anger already excited.

CHAPTER XXV

A TRIBUTE TO A SOUTHERN GIRL

Miss Lou entered upon her duties as hospital nurse at once.  Untrammelled even by the knowledge of conventionalities, and with the directness and fearlessness of a brave child, she went from one to another, her diffidence quickly banished by her profound sympathy.  The enlisted men on the piazzas received her chief attentions, nor was she long in discovering the Federal wounded, crowding the outbuildings and offices.

With the exception of a rearguard and hospital attendants, the Confederate forces had marched in pursuit of the Union column.  The dead were buried during the morning and the ghastlier evidences of strife removed.  Along the edge of the grove tents were pitched, some designed for the soldiers, others for the better accommodation and isolation of certain critical cases.  The negroes performed most of the labor, Uncle Lusthah counselling patience and quiet acceptance of their lot for the present.  The prisoners were sent South.  Confederate surgeon Ackley was in charge of the hospital, while upon Whately was conferred the military command.  His partial disablement would not prevent him from