Author: Marah Ellis Ryan
Category: Western
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CHAPTER XII.
"How that child is petted on, Gideon," and Mrs. Nesbitt looked up fromher work, the knitting of socks, to be worn by unknown boys in gray.Even the material for them was growing scarce, and she prided herselfon always managing, someway, to keep her knitting needles busy. Atpresent she was using a coarse linen or tow thread, over which shelamented because of its harshness.
Miss Loring, who appeared very domestic, with a stack of householdlinen beside her, glanced up, with a smile.
"Rather fortunate, isn't it, considering--" an arch of the brows and asignificant expression were allowed to finish her meaning. Mrs.Nesbitt pursed up her lips and shook her head.
"I really and truly wonder sometimes, Gertrude, if it's going on likethis always. Ten years if it's a day since he commenced paying courtthere, and what she allows to do, at least is more than I can guess."
"Marry him, no doubt," suggested Gertrude, inspecting a sheetcarefully, and then proceeding to tear it in widths designated by Dr.Delaven for hospital bandages. "She certainly esteems him veryhighly."
"Oh, esteem!" and Mrs. Nesbitt's tone was dubious.
"Well, people don't think much of getting married these days, wherethere is fighting and mourning everywhere."
The older lady gave her a quick glance over the tow yarn rack, but thefair face was very serene, and without a trace of personal feeling onthe subject.
"Yes, that's so," she admitted, "but I used to think they were onlywaiting till Kenneth came of age, or until he graduated. But my! Ididn't see it make a spec of difference. They danced together at theparty given for him, and smiled, careless as you please, and now thedancing is ended, they keep on friendly and smiling, and I'm downrightpuzzled to know what they do mean."
"Maybe no more than those two, who are only amusing themselves," saidGertrude, with a glance towards the lawn where Evilena and Delavenwere fencing with long stalks of a wild lily they had brought from theswamps, and when Evilena was vanquished by the foe her comforter was awhite-haired gentleman, inclined to portliness, and with much morethan an inclination to courtliness, whom Evilena called "My Judge."
It was two weeks after the descent of Aunt Sajane and Evilena uponLoringwood. The former, after a long consultation with Dr. Delaven,had returned to her own home, near the McVeigh plantation, and puttingher household in order for a more prolonged visit than at firstintended, she had come back to be near Gertrude in case--
None of them had put into words to each other their thought as toMatthew Loring's condition, but all understood the seriousness of it,and Gertrude, of course, must not be left alone.
Dr. Delaven had meant only to accompany the invalid home, consult withtheir local physician, and take his departure after a visit to Mrs.McVeigh, and possibly a sight of their new battlefield beside Kenneth,if his command was not too far away.
Kenneth McVeigh was Col. McVeigh now, to the great delight of thesister, who loved men who could fight. On his return from Paris hehad, at his own request, and to the dismay of his family, been sent tothe frontier. At the secession of his state he was possessed of acaptaincy, which he resigned, returned home, and in six weeks tendereda regiment, fully equipped at his own expense, to the Confederategovernment. His offer had been accepted and himself made a colonel.His regiment had already seen one year of hard service, were veterans,with a colonel of twenty-five--a colonel who had been carried homewounded unto death, the surgeons said, from the defeat of FortDonaldson. He had belied their prophecies of death, however, and whilenot yet equal to the rigors of camp life, he had accepted a commissionabroad of decided importance to his government, and became one of thecommittee to deal with certain English sympathizers who were fittingout vessels for the Confederate navy.
Mrs. McVeigh had been called to Mobile by the serious illness of anaged relative and had been detained by something much less dreary, themarriage of her brother, who had command of a garrison at that point.
Thus barred from seeing either of his former Parisian friends, Delavenwould have gone back to Charleston, or else gone North or West to viewa new land in battle array.
But Mr. Loring's health, or Miss Loring's entreaties had interferedwith both those plans. He could not desert a young lady on anisolated plantation with only the slaves about her, and a partialparalytic to care for, especially when all the most capablephysicians were at military posts, and no one absolutely reliablenearer than Charleston.
So he had promised to stay, and had advised Miss Loring to induce Mrs.Nesbitt to remain until a few weeks' rest and the atmosphere of homewould, he hoped, have a beneficial influence on the invalid.
All his suggestions had been carried out. Aunt Sajane (who had not aniece or nephew in the world, yet was "aunt" to all the young folks)was to remain, also Evilena, until the return of Mr. McVeigh, afterwhich they all hoped Mr. Loring could be persuaded to move up theriver to a smaller estate belonging to Gertrude, adjoining TheTerrace, as the nearness of friends would be a great advantage underthe circumstances. The isolation of Loringwood had of late becomeoppressive to its mistress, who strongly advocated its sale. They hadenough land without, and she realized it was too large a tract to bemanaged properly or to profit so long as her uncle was unable to seeto affairs personally. But above all else, the loneliness of it wasirksome since her return.
"Though we never did use to think Loringwood isolated, did we,Gideon?" asked Mrs. Nesbitt, who remembered the house when full ofguests, and the fiddles and banjos of the colored musicians alwaysready for dance music.
"Relentless circumstances over (he called it ovah, and Delavendelighted in the charming dialect of the South, as illustrated by theJudge) which we have no control have altered conditions through thisentire (entiah) commonwealth. But, no. I should not call Loringwoodexactly isolated, with the highway of the Salkahatchie at its door."
"But when no one travels the highway?" said Delaven, whose commentshad aroused the discussion. "No one but black hunters in log canoeshave I seen come along it for a week, barring yourselves. Faith, Ishould think their presence alone would be enough to give a young ladynervous chills, the daily and nightly fear of insurrection."
The Judge smiled, indulgently, willing to humor the fancies offoreigners, who were not supposed to understand American institutions.
"Your ideas would be perfectly sound, my dear sir, if you were dealingwith any other country, where the colored man is the recognizedservant of the land and of the land owners. But we of the South, sir,understand their needs and just the proper amount of control necessaryto be enforced for mutual protection. They have grown up under thattraining until it is a part of themselves. There are refractoryblacks, of course, just as there are worthless demoralized whites, butI assure you, sir, I voice the sentiments of our people when I statethat the families of Southern planters feel much more secure whenguarded by their colored folk than they would if surrounded by a troopof Northern soldiery. There have been no cases where white women andchildren have had reason to regret having trusted to the black man'sguardianship, sir. In that respect I believe we Southrons hold aunique place in history. The evils of slavery, perfectly true in manylands, are not true here. The proofs of it are many. Their dependenceon each other is mutual. Each understands and respects that fact, sir,and the highest evidence of it is shown when the master marches tomeet their common enemy, and leaves his wife and children to the careof the oldest or most intelligent of his bondsmen.
"I tell you, sir, the people of Europe cannot comprehend the tiesbetween those two races, because the world has seen nothing like it.The Northern people have no understanding of it, because, sir, theirnatures are not such as to call forth such loyalty. They are a cold,unresponsive people, and the only systematic cruelty ever practicedagainst the colored folks by Americans has been by the New Englandslavers, sir. The slave trade has always been monopolized by theNorthern folks in this country--by the puritanical New Englanders whoused to sell the pickaninnies at so much a pound, as cattle or sheepare sold.
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p; "They are no longer able to derive a profit from it, hence theirdesire to abolish the revenue of the South. I assure you, sir, if thecolored man could endure the climate of their bleak land there wouldbe no shouting for abolition."
It was only natural that Delaven should receive a good deal ofinformation those days from the Southern side of the question. Much ofit was an added education to him--the perfect honesty of the speakers,the way in which they entered heart and soul into the discussion oftheir state's rights, the extreme sacrifices offered up, the lives oftheir sons, the wealth, the luxury in which they had lived, all givenup without protest for the cause. Women who had lived and ruled likequeens over the wide plantations, were now cutting their livingexpenses lower and lower, that the extra portion saved might bedevoted to their boys at the front. The muslins and linens forhousehold purposes were used as Gertrude Loring was using them now;everything possible was converted into bandages for hospital use.
"I simply don't dare let the house servants do it," she explained, inreply to the Judge's query. "They could do the work, of course, butthey never have had to practice economy, and I can't undertake toteach it to them as well as myself, and to both at the same time. Oh,yes, Margeret is capable, of course, but she has her hands full towatch those in the cook house."
Her smile was very bright and contented. It hinted nothing of thestraightened circumstances gradually surrounding them, making a closewatch in all directions absolutely necessary. Affairs were reaching astage where money, except in extravagant quantities, was almostuseless. The blockade had raised even the most simple articles to theprice of luxuries. All possessions, apart from their home productions,must be husbanded to the utmost.
"You are a brave little woman, Miss Gertrude," said the Judge, bowingbefore her with a certain reverence. "All the battles of this war arenot fought to the sound of regimental music, and our boys at the frontshoot straighter when they have at home women like you to guard. Ourwomen of the South are an inspiration--an inspiration!"
No courtier of storied Castile could have rivaled the grace of mannerwith which the praise was spoken, so thought Delaven, for all hismental pictures of Castillian courtesies revealed them as a bittheatrical, while the Judge was sincerity itself.
As he spoke, the soft sound of wheels was heard in the hall, andMatthew Loring, in his invalid chair, was rolled slowly out on theveranda by his man, Ben. Margeret followed with a light robe over herarm, and a fan.
"Not there, Ben," she said, in the low tone of one giving an orderentirely personal and not intended to be heard by the others, "thedraught does seem to coax itself round that corner, and--"
"Not a bit of it," broke in the master of Loringwood, abruptly. "Nomore draught there than anywhere else. It's all right, Ben, wheel meto that railing."
Margeret silently spread the robe over his knees, laid the fan in hislap, adjusted the cushion back of his head, and re-entered the housewith a slight gesture to Ben, who followed her.
"She's a puzzle entirely," remarked Delaven, who was watching themfrom the rustic seat nearest the steps. Evilena was seated there, andhe stood beside her.
"Margeret? Why?" she asked, in the same low tone.
"I'll tell you. Not thirty minutes ago I told her he could be broughtout and have his chair placed so that the sun would be on his limbs,but not on his head. Now, what does she do but pilot him out anddiscourage him from going to just the corner that was best."
"And you see the result," whispered the girl, who was laughing."Margeret knows a lot. Just see how satisfied he is, now, thesatisfaction of having had to fight some one. If he knew it wasanybody's orders, even yours, he would not enjoy that corner half somuch. That is the sweet disposition of our Uncle Matthew."
Overhanging eyebrows of iron-gray were the first thing to arrestattention in Matthew Loring's face. They shadowed dark expressive eyesin a swarthy setting. His hair and mustache were of the same grey, andvery bushy. He had the broad head and square jaw of the aggressivetype. Not a large man, even in his prime, he looked almost frail as hesettled back in his chair. He was probably sixty, but looked older.
"Still knitting socks, Mistress Nesbitt?" he inquired, with a causticsmile. "Charming occupation. Do you select that quality and color forany beauties to be found in them? I can remember seeing your motherusing knitting needles on this very veranda thirty--yes, forty yearsago. But I must say I never saw her make anything heavier than lace.And what's all this, Gertrude? Do you entertain your visitors thesedays by dragging out the old linen for their inspection? Why are youdallying with the servants' tasks?"
"No; it is my own task, uncle," returned his niece, with unruffledserenity. "Not a very beautiful one, but consoling because of itsusefulness."
"Usefulness--huh! In your mother's day ladies were not expected to beuseful."
"Alas for us that the day is past," said the girl, tearing off anotherstrip of muslin.
"Now, do you wonder that I adore my Judge?" whispered Evilena toDelaven.