Whately had a busy day and felt that he had a reputation to regain.  He therefore bravely endured much physical pain in his arm and gave very close attention to duty.  Captain Maynard, on the contrary, had nothing to do, and his wound was only severe enough to make him restless.  The young girl whom he had met at breakfast at once became by far the most interesting subject for thought and object of observation.  He was a young fellow of the ordinary romantic type, hasty, susceptible, as ready to fight as to eat, and possessed of the idea that the way to win a girl was to appear her smitten, abject slave.  The passing hours were ages to him in contrast to his previous activity, and as he watched Miss Lou going about on her errands of mercy he quickly passed from one stage to another of admiration and idealization.  Remembering the look that Whately had given him in the morning, he maintained a distant attitude at first, thinking his brother officer had claims which he must respect.  As he wandered uneasily around, however, he discovered virtually how matters stood, and learned of the attempt which Whately had made to marry his cousin, nolens volens.  This fact piqued his interest deeply and satisfied him that the way was clear for a suit on his part were he so inclined.  Fair rivalry would give only additional zest, and he promptly yielded to his inclination to become at least much better acquainted with the girl.  At dinner he and Whately vied in their gallantries, but she was too sad and weary to pay much attention to either of them.

Mrs. Whately compelled her to lie down for a time during the heat of the afternoon, but thoughts of the suffering all about her banished power to rest.  She went down and found the old colonel lying with closed eyes, feebly trying to keep away the pestering flies.  Remembering the bunch of peacock feathers with which Zany, in old monotonous days, had waved when waiting on the table, she obtained it from the dining-room, and sitting down noiselessly by the officer, gave him a respite from his tormentors.  In his drowsiness he did not open his eyes, but passed into quiet sleep.  The girl maintained her watch, putting her finger to her lips and making signals for silence to all who came near.  Other Confederate officers observed her wistfully; Mad Whately, coming in, looked at her frowningly.  His desire and purpose toward his cousin had been that of entire self-appropriation and now she was becoming the cynosure of many eyes.  Among them he saw those of Captain Maynard, who was already an object of hate.  Little recked the enamored captain of this fact.  To his ardent fancy the girl was rapidly becoming ideal in goodness and beauty.  With the ready egotism of the young he was inclined to believe that fate had brought about the events which had revealed to him the woman he should marry.  A bombshell bursting among them all would not have created a greater sensation than the knowledge that the girl’s thoughts were following a Yankee, one whom she herself, by daring stratagem, had released from captivity.