It must not be supposed, however, that her self-will was a passionate, moody absolutism.  She had outgrown that, and was too well-bred ever to show much temper.  The tendency of her mature purposes and prejudices was to crystallize into a few distinct forms.  With the feminine logic of a narrow mind, she made her husband an exception to the people among whom he had been born and bred.  Widowed, she gave her whole heart to the South.  Its institutions, habits, and social code were sacred, and all opponents thereof sacrilegious enemies.  To that degree that they were hostile, or even unbelieving, she hated them.

During the years immediately preceding the war she had been abroad superintending the education of Willard and two younger daughters, and when hostilities began she was led to believe that she could serve the cause better in England than on her remote plantation.  In her fierce partisanship, or rather perverted patriotism,—­for in justice it must be said that she knew no other country than the South,—­she was willing to send her son to Richmond.  He thwarted this purpose by quietly manifesting one of his father’s traits.

“No,” he said, “I will not fight against the section to which my father belonged.  To my mind it’s a wretched political squabble at best, and the politicians will settle it before long.  I have my life before me, and don’t propose to be knocked on the head for the sake of a lot of political John Smiths, North or South.”

In vain she tried to fire his heart with dreams of Southern empire.  He had made up that part of himself derived from Northern birth—­his mind—­and would not yield.  Meantime his Southern, indolent, pleasure-loving side was appealed to powerfully by aristocratic life abroad, and he felt it would be the sheerest folly to abandon his favorite pursuits.  He was little more then than a graceful animal, shrewd enough to know that his property was chiefly at the North, and that it would be unwise to endanger it.

Mrs. Merwyn’s self-interest and natural affection led her to yield to necessity with fairly good grace.  The course resolved upon by Willard preserved her son and the property.  When the South had accomplished its ambitious dreams she believed she would have skill enough to place him high among its magnates, while, if he were killed in one of the intervening battles,—­well, she was loyal enough to incur the risk, but at heart she did not deeply regret that she had escaped the probable sacrifice.

Thus time passed on, and she used her social influence in behalf of her section, but guardedly, lest she should jeopardize the interests of her children.  In May of the year in which our story opened, the twenty-first birthday of Willard occurred, and was celebrated with befitting circumstance.  He took all this quietly, but on the morning of the day following he said to his mother:—­

“You remember the provisions of my father’s will.  My share of the property was to be transferred to me when I should become of age.  We ought to return to New York at once and have the necessary papers made out.”