“Ah, this is something like,” exclaimed her uncle.  “I knew sleep and thought would bring back good sense.”

Mrs. Whately kissed her effusively and Mrs. Baron formally, the girl submitting with like mien in both instances.  Her cousin, in accordance with his mood and the policy he had adopted, bowed gallantly and with a touch of grandiloquence in his tone said, “I again apologize before all for my most unfortunate act last evening.”

She only bowed silently in reply.

Then Whately assumed the air of one who had many and weighty matters on his mind, his whole conversation conforming to the accepted belief that they were facing a terrible emergency, and that he, as the practical head of the family at such a time, must act decisively for the best good and safety of all.  “If I could be governed in this instance,” he said, “only by patriotic feeling I would advise the destruction of all the forage on the place if convinced that the Yanks were coming this way, but that would incite them to every possible outrage.  Still, I truly believe that it would be best for you and aunt to go with us this evening.”

“No,” said Mr. Baron, “I’ve settled that.”

“Haven’t you negroes that you can trust to take the stock off into the woods for concealment?”

“After Chunk’s rascality I won’t trust any of them.”

“Well, I shall adopt that plan at our place this morning, and leave as little of value within reach as I can help.”

By a sort of tacit agreement it was thought best not to say anything to Miss Lou except as Mrs. Whately broached the subject, it being believed that a quiet ignoring of her will and a manifest purpose to carry out their own would have the most weight in breaking down her opposition.  Indeed it was a shrewd policy, hard for the young girl to bear up against.  Mrs. Baron had been enjoined not to cross her in little things.  The busy housekeeper was too preoccupied to do so had she been disposed, but it troubled and incensed the girl to the last degree to see her bustling about, preparing for the wedding as if it would take place as a matter of course.  Mrs. Whately’s affectionate smiles and encouraging words were even harder to endure.  That good lady acted as if Miss Lou were a timid and coy maiden, who merely needed heartening and reassuring in order to face a brief ordeal, and then all would be well.  Her cousin gallantly lifted her hand to his lips and then rode away with part of his men, saying cheerfully, “I’ll manage everything for the best.”

A vague terror seized upon the girl and she again sought the refuge of Aun’ Jinkey’s cabin.  She must have some one to speak to who understood her, who felt for her.  She found that Mrs. Baron had been there before her, urging the completion of certain tasks.  Indeed, the old woman was ironing a white muslin dress which looked very bridal-like.  Miss Lou recognized it as her own gown, which might naturally be worn on such an occasion.