“You are right, aunty,” said Scoville, retreating.  “It’s wrong for me to do anything which might bring trouble to you or Chunk; but I was so eager to thank this other good Samaritan—­”

“Well, den, sit by de ladder dar, en Miss Lou kin sit on de do’step.  Den a body kin feel tings ain’ comin’ ter smash ‘fo’ dey kin breve.”

“Good Samaritan!” repeated Miss Lou, taking her old place in the doorway where she had so recently wished something would happen; “you have not fallen among thieves, sir.”

“My fear has been that you would think that a thief had fallen among the good Samaritans.  I assure you that I am a Union soldier in good and regular standing.”

“I reckon my uncle and cousin would scout the idea that you, or any of your army, had any standing whatever.”

“That does not matter, so that I can convince you that I would not do or say anything unbecoming a soldier.”

“You are a Yankee, I suppose?” she asked, looking at him with strong yet shyly expressed interest.

“I suppose I am, in your Southern vernacular.  I am from New York State, and my name is Allan Scoville.”

“Uncle says that you Yankees are terrible fellows.”

“Do I look as if I would harm you, Miss Lou?  Pardon me, I do not know how else to address you.”

“Address me as Miss Baron,” she replied, with a droll little assumption of girlish dignity.

“Well, then, Miss Baron, you have acted the part of a good angel toward me.”

“I don’t like such talk,” she replied, frowning.  “You were merely thrown helpless at my feet.  You didn’t look as if you could do the South much harm then.  What I may feel to be my duty hereafter—­”

“I have no fears at all of what you may do,” he interrupted, with a smile that made his expression very pleasing.

“How so?”

“Because you are incapable of betraying even an enemy, which I am not to you.  On the contrary, I am a grateful man, who would risk his life to do you a service.  The little unpleasantness between the North and South will pass away, and we shall all be friends again.”

“My uncle and cousin—­indeed all the people I know—­will never look upon you Northern soldiers as friends.”

“Never is a long time.  I certainly feel very friendly toward you.”

“I wish you to know that I am a Southern girl,” she replied stiffly, “and share in the feelings of my people.”

“Well, I’m a Northern man, and share in the feelings of my people.  Can’t we agree that this is fair and natural in each case?”

“But why do you all come marauding and trampling on the South?”

“I beg your pardon, Miss Baron, but your question opens up all the differences between the two sections.  I have my views, but am not a politician—­simply a soldier.  You and I are not at war.  Let us talk about something else.  With your brave cousin enlisting your sympathies against our side, what use would there be of my saying anything?”