“Willard,” she said, slowly, and in a voice that pierced his indifference, “have you any regard for me?”

“Certainly.  Have I shown any want of respect?”

“That is not the question at all.  You are young, Willard, and you live in the future.  I live much in the past.  My early home was in the South, where my family, for generations, has been eminent.  Is it strange, then, that I should love that sunny land?”

“No, mamma.”

“Well, all I ask at present is that you will promise me never, under any motive, to take up arms against that land of my ancestors.”

“I have not the slightest disposition to do so.”

“Willard, what to-day is, is.  Neither you nor I know what shall be on the morrow.  I never expected to marry a Northern man, yet I did so; nor should I regret it if I consulted my heart only.  He was different from all his race.  I did not foresee what was coming, or I could have torn my heart out before involving myself in these Northern complications.  I cannot change the past, but I must provide for the future.  O Willard, to your eyes your Northern fortune seems large.  But a few years will pass before you will be shown what a trifle it is compared with the prizes of power and wealth that will be bestowed upon loyal Southerners.  You have an ancestry, an ability, that would naturally place you among the foremost.  Terrible as would be the sacrifice on my part, I could still give you my blessing if you imitated young Strahan in one respect, and devoted yourself heart, soul, and sword to our cause.”

“The probable result would be that you and my sisters would be penniless, I sleeping in mud, and living on junk and hoe-cake.  Another result, probable, only a little more remote, is that the buzzards would pick my bones.  Faugh!  Oh, no.  I’ve settled that question, and it’s a bore to think a question over twice.  There are thousands of Americans in Europe.  Their wisdom suits me until this tea-pot tempest is over.  If any one doubts my courage I’ll prove it fast enough, but, if I had my way, the politicians, North and South, should do their own fighting and starving.”

“But, Willard, our leaders are not mere politicians.  They are men of grand, far-reaching schemes, and when their plans are accomplished, they will attain regal power and wealth.”

“Visions, mamma, visions.  I have enough of my father’s blood in my veins to be able to look at both sides of a question.  Strahan asked me severely if I did not read the papers;” and he laughed lightly.  “Well, I do read them, at least enough of them to pick out a few grains of truth from all the chaff.  The North and South have begun fighting like two bull-dogs, and it’s just a question which has the longer wind and the more endurance.  The chances are all in favor of the North.  I shall not throw myself and property away for the sake of a bare possibility.  That’s settled.”

“Have you ice-water in your veins?” his mother asked, passionately.