CHAPTER V
AN ELUSIVE FACE
Walking abroad at noontime next day, Prescott saw Helen Harley comingtoward Capitol Square, stepping lightly through the snow, a type ofyouthful freshness and vigour. The red hood was again over her head, anda long dark cloak, the hem of it almost touching the snow fallen thenight before, enclosed her figure.
"Good-morning, Mr. Soldier," she said cheerily; "I hope that yourdissipations at the Mosaic Club have not retarded the recovery of yourinjured shoulder."
Prescott smiled.
"I think not," he replied. "In fact, I've almost forgotten that I have ashoulder."
"Now, I can guess where you are going," she said.
"Try and see."
"You are on your way to the Capitol to hear Mr. Redfield reply to thatattack of Mr. Winthrop's, and I'm going there, too."
So they walked together up the hill, pausing a moment by the greatWashington monument and its surrounding groups of statuary where Mr.Davis had taken the oath of office two years before, and Mr. Sefton, whosaw them from an upper window of that building, smiled sourly.
The doors of the Capitol were wide open, as they always stood during thesessions of Congress, and Robert and Helen passed into the rotunda,pausing a moment by the Houdon Washington, and then went up the steps tothe second floor, where they entered the Senate Chamber, now used by theConfederate House of Representatives. The tones of a loud and tirelessvoice reached them; Mr. Redfield was already on his feet.
The honourable member from the Gulf Coast had risen on a question ofpersonal privilege. Then he required the clerk of the House to read theoffending editorial from Winthrop's newspaper, during which he stoodhaughtily erect, his feet rather wide apart, his arms folded indignantlyacross his breast, and a look of righteous wrath on his face. When theclerk finished, he spat plentifully in a spittoon at his feet, clearedhis throat, and let loose the flood of rhetoric which was threateningalready to burst over the dam.
The blow aimed by that villainous writer, the honourable gentleman said,was struck at him. He was a member of the Committee on Military Affairs,and he must reply ere the foul stain was permitted to tarnish his name.He came from a sunny land where all the women were beautiful and all themen brave, and he would rather die a thousand deaths than permit anyobscure ink-slinger to impeach his fair fame. He carried the honour ofhis country in his heart; he would sooner die a thousand deaths than topermit--to permit---
He paused, and waved his hand as he sought for a metaphor sufficientlystrong-winged.
"Wait a minute, Mr. Redfield, and I'll help you down," dryly said athin-faced member from the Valley of Virginia.
The sound of subdued laughter arose and the Speaker rapped for order.Mr. Redfield glared at the irreverent member from the Valley ofVirginia, then resumed his interrupted flight. Unfortunately for him thespell was broken. Some of the members began to talk in low whispers andothers to read documents. Besides the murmur of voices there was a soundof scraping feet. But the honourable member from the sunny shores of theGulf helped himself down, though somewhat angrily, and choosing a tamercourse began to come nearer to the point. He called for the suppressionof the offending newspaper and the expulsion of its editor from thecity. He spoke of Winthrop by name and denounced him. Robert saw Mr.Sefton appear upon the floor and once nod his head approvingly as Mr.Redfield spoke.
The House now paid more heed, but the dry member from the Valley ofVirginia, in reply to Mr. Redfield, called the attention of the membersto the fact that they could not suppress the newspapers. They might denyits representatives the privileges of the House, but they could go nofurther. He was opposed to spreading the thing to so great an extent, asit would be sure to reach the North and would be a standingadvertisement to the Yankees that the South was divided against itself.
Then a motion was made to deny the privileges of the House to Winthrop,or any representative of his paper, but it was defeated by a narrowmargin.
"That, I think," said Robert, "will be the end of this affair."
"I am glad of it," responded Helen, "because I like Mr. Winthrop."
"And, therefore, you believe everything he says is correct?"
"Yes; why not?"
"Women have more personal loyalty than men," said Robert, not replyingdirectly. "Shall we go now?" he asked a moment later; "I think we haveheard all of interest."
"No, I must stay a little," she replied with some embarrassment. "Thefact is--I am--waiting to see Mr. Sefton."
"To see Mr. Sefton!" Prescott could not refrain from exclaiming in hissurprise.
She looked at him with an air half defiance, half appeal.
"Yes," she said, "and my business is of considerable importance to me.You don't think that a mere woman can have any business of weight withso influential a personage as Mr. Sefton. You Southern men, with allyour courtesy and chivalry, really undervalue us, and therefore you arenot gallant at all."
Her defiant look and manner told Prescott that she did not wish him toknow the nature of her business, so he made a light answer, asking herif she were about to undertake the affairs of the Government. He had nodoubt some would be glad to get rid of them.
He excused himself presently and strolled into the rotunda, where hegazed absently at the Washington statue and the Lafayette bust, althoughhe saw neither. Conscious of a feeling of jealousy, he began to wish illto the clever Secretary. "What business can she have with a man likeSefton?" he said to himself.
Passing out of the rotunda, he walked slowly down the steps, and lookingback saw Helen and Mr. Sefton in close and earnest conversation. Then hewent on faster with increased ill temper.
"I have a piece of news for you," said Mrs. Prescott the next morning toher son at the breakfast table.
He looked at her with inquiring interest.
"Helen Harley has gone to work," she said.
"Gone to work! Mother, what do you mean?"
"The heiress of seven generations must work like a common Northernmill-hand to support that pompous old father of hers, the heir of sixVirginia generations, who certainly would not work under anycircumstances to support his daughter."
"Won't you explain yourself more clearly, mother?"
"It's this. The Harleys are ruined by the war. The Colonel is absorbedin his career and spends all his salary on himself. The old gentlemandoesn't know anything about his financial affairs and doesn't want to;it's beneath his dignity. Helen, who does know about them, is nowearning the bread for her father and herself. Think of a Southern girlof the oldest blood doing such a thing! It is very low and degrading,isn't it?"
She looked at him covertly. A sudden thought occurred to him.
"No, mother," he replied. "It is not low and degrading. You think justthe contrary, and so do I. Where has Helen gone to work?"
"In the Treasury Department, under Mr. Sefton. She is copying documentsthere."
Robert felt a sudden relief and then alarm that she should owe so muchto Sefton.
"I understand that Harley senior stormed and threatened for awhile,"continued his mother. "He said no female member of his family had everworked before, and he might have added, few male members either. He saidhis family would be disgraced forever by the introduction of such a lowYankee innovation; but Helen stood firm, and, moreover, she was urged bythe hand of necessity. I understand that she has quite a good place andher salary is to be paid in gold. She will pass here every day at noon,coming home for her luncheon."
Prescott spent most of the morning at home, the remainder with his newfriends, wandering about the city; but just before noon he was in frontof the Custom House, waiting by the door through which Helen must come.She appeared promptly at the stroke of twelve and seemed surprised tosee him there.
"I came merely to tell you how much I admire your resolution," he said."I think you are doing a noble thing."
The colour in her cheeks deepened a little. He knew he had pleased her.
"It required no great amount of courage," she replied,
"for the work isnot hard and Mr. Sefton is very kind. And, aside from the money I amhappier here. Did you never think how hard it was for women to sit withtheir hands folded, waiting for this war to end?"
"I have thought of it more than once," he replied.
"Now I feel that I am a part of the nation," she continued, "not a merewoman who does not count. I am working with the others for our success."
Her eyes sparkled like the eyes of one who has taken a tonic, and shelooked about her defiantly as if she would be ready with a fitting replyto any who might dare to criticize her.
Prescott liked best in her this quality of independence andself-reliance, and perhaps her possession of it imparted to her thatslight foreign air which he so often noticed. He thought thecivilization of the South somewhat debilitating, so far as women wereconcerned. It wished to divide the population into just twoclasses--women of beautiful meekness and men of heroic courage.
Helen had broken down an old convention, having made an attempt that fewwomen of her class and period would have dared, and at a time, too, whenshe might have been fearful of the results. She was joyous as if aburden had been lifted. Prescott rarely had seen her in such spirits.She, who was usually calm and grave, seemed to have forgotten the war.She laughed and jested and saw good humour in everything.
Prescott could not avoid catching the infection from the woman whom hemost admired. The atmosphere--the very air--took on an unusualbrilliancy. The brick walls and the shingled roofs glittered in thecrisp, wintry sunshine; the schoolboys, caps over their ears and mittenson their fingers, played and shouted in the streets just as if peacereigned and the cannon were not rumbling onward over there beyond thetrees.
"Isn't this world beautiful at times?" said Helen.
"It is," replied Robert, "and it seems all the more strange to me thatwe should profane it by war. But here comes Mrs. Markham. Let us see howshe will greet you."
Mrs. Markham was in a sort of basket cart drawn by an Accomack pony, oneof those ugly but stout little horses which do much service in Virginiaand she was her own driver, her firm white wrists showing above hergloves as she held the reins. She checked her speed at sight of Robertand Helen and stopped abreast of them.
"I was not deceiving you the other night, Captain Prescott," she said,after a cheerful good-afternoon "when I told you that all my carriagehorses had been confiscated. Ben Butler, here--I call him Ben Butlerbecause he is low-born and has no manners--arrived only last night,bought for me by my husband with a whole wheelbarrowful of Confederatebills: is it not curious how we, who have such confidence in ourGovernment, will not trust its money."
She flicked Ben Butler with her whip, and the pony reared and tried tobolt, but presently she reduced him to subjection.
"Did I not tell you that he had no manners," she said. "Oh, how I wish Ihad the real Ben Butler under my hand, too! I've heard what you've done,Helen. But, tell me, is it really true? Have you actually gone towork--as a clerk in an office, like a low-born Northern woman?"
The colour in Helen's cheeks deepened and Robert saw the faintest quiverof her lower lip.
"It is true," she replied. "I am a secretary in Mr. Sefton's office andI get fifteen dollars a week."
"Confederate money?"
"No, in gold."
"What do you do it for?"
"For the money. I need it."
Mrs. Markham flicked the pony's mane again and once more he reared, but,as before, the strong hand restrained him.
"What you are doing is right, Helen," she said. "Though a Southernwoman, I find our Southern conventions weigh heavily upon me: but," sheadded quizzically, "of course, you understand that we can't know yousocially now."
"I understand," said Helen, "and I don't ask it."
Her lips were pressed together with an air of defiance and there was asparkle in her eyes.
Mrs. Markham laughed long and joyously.
"Why, you little goose," she said, "I believe you actually thought I wasin earnest. Don't you know that we of the Mosaic Club and its circlerepresent the more advanced and liberal spirit of Richmond--if I do sayit myself--and we shall stand by you to the utmost. I suspect that ifyou were barred, others would choose the same bars for themselves. Wouldthey not, Captain Prescott?"
"I certainly should consider myself included in the list," replied theyoung man sturdily.
"And doubtless you would have much company," resumed she. "And now Imust be going. Ben Butler is growing impatient. He is not accustomed togood society, and I must humour him or he will make a scene."
She spoke to the horse and they dashed down the street.
"A remarkable woman," said Prescott.
"Yes; and just now I feel very grateful to her," said Helen.
They met others, but not all were so frank and cordial as Mrs. Markham.There was a distinct chilliness in the manners of one, while a secondhad a patronizing air which was equally offensive. Helen's high spiritswere dashed a little, but Robert strove to raise them again. He saw onlythe humourous features of such a course on the part of those whom theyhad encountered, and he exerted himself to ridicule it with such goodeffect that she laughed again, and her happy mood was fully restoredwhen she reached her own gate.
The next was a festal day in Richmond, which, though always threatenedby fire and steel, was not without its times of joyousness. The famousKentucky raider, Gen. John H. Morgan, had come to town, and all that wasbest in the capital, both military and civil, would give him welcome anddo him honour.
The hum and bustle of a crowd rose early in the streets, and Prescott,with all the spirits of youth, eager to see and hear everything ofmoment, was already with his friends, Talbot, Raymond and Winthrop.
"Richmond knows how to sing and dance even if the Yankee army is drawingnear. Who's afraid!" said Winthrop.
"I have declined an honour," said Raymond. "I might have gone in one ofthe carriages in the procession, but I would rather be here on thesidewalk with you. A man can never see much of a show if he is part ofit."
It was a winter's day, but Richmond was gay, nevertheless. The heavensopened in fold on fold of golden sunshine, and a bird of winter, risingabove the city, poured out a flood of song. The boys had a holiday andthey were shouting in the streets. Officers in their best uniforms rodeby, and women, bringing treasured dresses of silk or satin from oldchests, appeared now in gay and warm colours. The love of festivity,which war itself could not crush, came forth, and these people, all ofwhom knew one another, began to laugh and jest and to see the brighterside of life.
"Come toward the hotel," said Talbot to his friends; "Morgan and some ofthe great men of Kentucky who are with him have been there all night.That's where the procession starts."
Nothing loath, they followed him, and stayed about the hotel, talkingwith acquaintances and exchanging the news of the morning. Meanwhile thebrilliant day deepened and at noon the time for the festivities to beginwas at hand.
The redoubtable cavalry leader, whose fame was rivaling that of Stuartand Wood, came forth from the hotel, his friends about him, and thegrand procession through the streets was formed. First went the ArmoryBand, playing its most gallant tunes, and after that the city Battalionin its brightest uniform. In the first carriage sat General Morgan andMayor Joseph Mayo of Richmond, side by side, and behind them incarriages and on horseback rode a brilliant company; famous ConfederateGenerals like J. E. B. Stuart, Edward Johnson, A. P. Hill and others,Hawes, the so-called Confederate Governor of Kentucky, and many more.
Virginia was doing honour to Kentucky in the person of the latter'sgallant son, John H. Morgan, and the crowd flamed into enthusiasm.Tumultuous applause arose. These were great men to the people. Theirnames were known in every household, and they resounded now, shouted bymany voices in the crisp, wintry air. The carriages moved briskly along,the horses reared with their riders in brilliant uniforms, and theirsteel-shod hoofs struck sparks from the stones of the streets. Ahead ofall, the band played dance music, and the brass of horn
and trumpetflashed back the golden gleam of the sun. The great dark-haired anddark-eyed cavalryman, the centre and object of so much applause andenthusiasm, smiled with pleasure, and bowed to right and left like aRoman Caesar at his triumph.
The joy and enthusiasm of the crowd increased and the applause swelledinto rumbling thunder. Richmond, so long depressed and gloomy, sprang upwith a bound. Why cry when it was so much better to laugh! The flash ofuniforms was in the eyes of all, and the note of triumphant music inevery ear. What were the Yankees, anyway, but a leaderless horde? Theycould never triumph over such men as these, Morgan, Stuart, Wood,Harley, Hill, not to mention the peerless chief of them all, Lee, outthere, always watching.
The low thunder of a cannon came faintly from the north, but there werefew who heard it.
The enthusiasm of the crowd for Morgan spread to everybody, and mightycheers were given in turn for all the Generals and the Mayor. Therebound was complete. The whole people, for the time being, lookedforward to triumph, thorough and magnificent. The nearer the Yankeescame to Richmond the greater would be their defeat and rout. Highspirits were contagious and ran through the crowd like a fire in drygrass.
"Hurrah!" cried Talbot, clapping his hand heavily upon Prescott'sshoulder. "This is the spirit that wins! We'll drive the Yankees intothe Potomac now!"
"I've never heard that battles were won by shouting and the music ofbands," replied Prescott dryly. "How many of these people who are makingso much noise have anything whatever to do with the war?"
"That's your Puritan mind, old Gloomy Face," replied Talbot. "Nothingwas ever won by being too solemn."
"And we mustn't hold too cheaply the enthusiasm of a crowd--even a crowdthat is influenced merely by the emotion of the moment," said Raymond."It is a force which, aimless in itself, may be controlled for good usesby others. Ha, look at Harley, there! Well done!"
Helen's brother was riding an unusually spirited horse that reared andcurveted every time the band put forth an unusual effort. The Colonelhimself was in gorgeous attire, wearing a brand new uniform with muchgold lace, very large epaulets on his shoulders and a splendid silkensash around his waist. A great cavalry saber hung at his side. He was aresplendent figure and he drew much applause from the boys and theyounger women. His eyes shone with pleasure, and he allowed his horse tocurvet freely.
A little girl, perhaps pressed too much by the unconscious crowd orperhaps driven on by her own enthusiasm, fell directly in front of therearing horse of Harley. It was too late for him to stop, and a cry ofalarm arose from the crowd, who expected to see the iron-shod hoofs beatthe child's body into the pavement, but Harley instantly struck hishorse a mighty blow and the animal sprang far over the child, leavingher untouched.
The applause was thunderous, and Harley bowed and bowed, lifting hisplumed hat again and again to the admiring multitude, while sitting hisstill-rearing horse with an ease and grace that was beyond criticism.
"The man's whole character was expressed in that act," said Raymond withconviction; "vain to the last degree, as fond of display and colours asa child, unconsciously selfish, but in the presence of physical dangerquick, resourceful, and as brave as Alexander. What queer mixtures weare!"
Mr. Harley was in one of the carriages of the procession and his eyesglittered with pleasure and pride when he witnessed the act of his son.Moreover, in his parental capacity he appropriated part of the creditand also took off his hat and bowed.
The procession advanced along Main Street toward the south porch of theCity Hall, where General Morgan was to be presented formally to thepeople, and the cheers never ceased for a moment. Talbot and the twoeditors talked continually about the scene before them, even the mindsof the two professional critics becoming influenced by the unboundedenthusiasm; but Prescott paid only a vague attention, his mind havingbeen drawn away by something else.
The young Captain saw in the throng a woman who seemed to him somewhatdifferent from those around her. She was not cheering nor clapping herhands--merely floating with the stream. She was very tall and walkedwith a strong and graceful step, but was wrapped to her cheeks in a longbrown cloak; only a pair of wonderfully keen eyes, which once met theglance of his, rose above its folds. Her look rested on him a moment andheld him with a kind of secret power, then her eyes passed on; but itseemed to him that under a show of indifference she was examiningeverything with minute scrutiny.
It was the lady of the brown cloak, his silent companion of the train,and Prescott burned with curiosity at this unexpected meeting. Hewatched her for some time and he could make nothing of her. She spoke tono one, but kept her place among the people, unnoticed but noticing. Hewas recalled to himself presently by Talbot's demand to know why hestared so much at the crowd and not at the show itself.
Then he turned his attention away from the woman to the procession, buthe resolved not to lose sight of her entirely.
At the south porch of the City Hall General Morgan was introduced withgreat ceremony to the inhabitants of the Confederate capital, who hadlong heard of his gallant deeds.
After the cheering subsided, the General, a handsome man of thirty-sixor seven, made a speech. The Southern people dearly love a speech, andthey gave him close attention, especially as he was sanguine, predictinggreat victories. Little he dreamed that his career was then close to itsbloody end, and that the brilliant Stuart, standing so near, would beclaimed even sooner; that Hill, over there, and others beside him, wouldnever see the close of the war. There was no note of all this in the airnow, and no note of it in Morgan's speech. Young blood and lively hopespoke in him, and the bubbling spirits of the crowd responded.
Prescott and his comrades stood beside the porch, listening to theaddress and the cheers, and Prescott's attention was claimed again bythe strange woman in the throng. She was standing directly in front ofthe speaker, though all but her face was hidden by those around her. Hesaw the same keen eyes under long lashes studying the generals on theporch. "I'm going to speak to that woman," resolved Prescott. "Boys," hesaid to his comrades, "I've just caught the eye of an old friend whom Ihaven't seen in a long time. Excuse me for a minute."
He edged his way cautiously through the throng until he stood beside thestrange woman. She did not notice his coming and presently he stumbledslightly against her. He recovered himself instantly and was ready withan apology.
"I beg your pardon," he said, "but we have met before. I seem toremember you, Miss, Miss----"
The woman looked startled, then set her lips firmly.
"You are rude, sir," she said. "Is it the custom of Southern gentlemento accost ladies in this manner?"
She gave her shoulders a haughty shrug and turned her back upon him.Prescott flushed, but held his ground, and he would have spoken to heragain had she given him the chance. But she began to move away and hewas afraid to follow deliberately lest he make a scene. Instead, he wentback to his friends.
The General's speech came to an end and was followed by a rollingthunder of cheers. Then all the people of consequence were presented tohim, and forth from the Hustings court-room, where they had been bidingtheir time, walked twenty of the most beautiful young ladies ofRichmond, in holiday attire of pink, rose and lilac silk or satin,puffed and flounced, their hair adorned with pink and red roses fromRichmond hothouses.
It was really a wonderful bit of feminine colouring amid the crowd, andthe Southern people, ever proud of their women, cheered again. Helenwas there--it was a holiday--in a wonderful old dress of rose-colouredsatin, her cheeks glowing and her eyes shining, and as Prescott saw herhe forgot the strange woman who had rebuffed him.
"The most beautiful girl of this score of beautiful girls is to presenta wreath of roses to General Morgan. I wonder who it will be," saidRaymond.
He looked quizzically at Prescott.
"I wonder," repeated Prescott, but he felt no doubt whatever upon thesubject.
The cheering of the crowd ceased, and Helen, escorted by her brother,stepped from the unserried rank
s of beauty to a table where the chapletof roses lay. Then the General stood aside, and Helen, walking forwardalone, made a little speech to General Morgan, in which she complimentedhim on his courage and brilliant achievements. She said that the soundof his voice would always strike terror in the North and kindle hopeanew in the South. She was half afraid, half daring, but she spoke thewords clearly. The big, black-bearded General stood before her, hat inhand and openly admiring. When she came to the end of her speech shereached up, rested the wreath for a moment on his bushy black crown ofhair and then put it in his hands. Now the crowd gave its greatest burstof applause. The two figures standing there, the tall, brown soldier andthe beautiful woman, appealed to all that was gallant in their nature.
"It does not look as if there would be any social ostracism of MissHarley because she has turned working woman," said Winthrop.
"Cold and selfish emotions don't count at a time like this," saidRaymond; "it's the silent pressure of time and circumstance that she'llhave to reckon with."
Helen, her great deed performed, walked back, blushing somewhat, and hidherself among her companions. Then, the official ceremonies over, theoccasion became informal, and soon generals and young women alike weresurrounded by admirers, war and beauty having chances about equal inthe competition. The good spirits of the crowd, moved by triumphantoratory, the beauty of the women and the blaze of uniforms, grew to sucha pitch that no discordant note marred the cheerfulness of thosegathered in the old Court House.
Prescott pressed into the crowd, but he found himself somewhat lost, or,rather, dimmed, amid the brilliant uniforms of the generals, who were asthick as corn in the field, and he despaired of securing more than asmall part of Helen's attention. He had admired her beauty more thanever that day; her timid dignity when all critical eyes were upon herimpressed him, and yet he felt no jealousy now when he saw hersurrounded and so sincerely flattered by others. He was surprised athimself, and a little angry, too, that it should be so, but search hismind as he would he could not find the cause. At last he secured a wordor two with her and passed on toward the porch; but looking back saw thegreat cavalry leader, Wood, the mountaineer, talking to her, his tallfigure towering a head over hers, his black eyes sparkling with a newfire and lighting up his face like a blaze. His uniform was not toobright and he was an imposing figure--lionlike was the simile thatoccurred to Prescott.
But he felt no pang--again he was surprised at himself--and went on hisway to the parlour, where the decorations were yet untouched, and gazedat the crowd, portions of which still lingered in the streets.
His eyes unconsciously sought one figure, a figure that was not there,and he came to himself with a start when he realized the cause that haddrawn him to the place. Displeased with himself, he rejoined his friendsin the court-room.
"Let's go into the hall and see the ladies and the great men," saidTalbot, and his comrades willingly went with him. It was indeed ananimated scene in the building, the same high spirits and confident hopefor the future that had marked the crowd prevailing here.
Despite the winter without, it was warm in the rooms of the City Hall,and Prescott, after awhile, went back to the porch from which GeneralMorgan had made his speech. Many of the enthusiastic throng ofspectators still lingered and small boys were sending off amateurfireworks. Going outside, he became once more one of the throng, simplybecause he had caught another glimpse of a face that interested andmystified him.
It was the tall woman of the brown cloak, still watching everything witheyes that missed no detail. She annoyed Prescott; she had become anobsession like one of those little puzzles the solution of which is ofno importance except when one cannot obtain it. So he lingered in herneighbourhood, taking care that she should not observe him, and he askedtwo or three persons concerning her identity. Nobody knew her.
As the crowd, by and by, began to diminish, the woman turned away. Theoutlines of her figure were not disclosed, but her step was swinging andfree, as that of one who had an abundance of health and vigour. Shespoke to nobody, but seemed sure of her way.
She went up Main Street, and Prescott, his curiosity increasing,followed at a distance. She did not look back, and he closed upgradually the gap between them, in order that he might not lose sight ofher if she turned around a corner. This she did presently, but when hehastened and passed the corner, too, he found himself face to face withthe woman in brown.
"Well, sir?" she said sharply.
"Ah, I---- Excuse me, I did not see you. I turned the corner with suchsuddenness," he said awkwardly, having an uneasy sense that he had beenintrusive, yet anxious to solve the troublesome little mystery.
"You were following me--and for the second time to-day."
He was silent, but his flushed face confirmed the truth of heraccusation. For the moment that he stood near he examined her features.He saw eyes so dark that he could not tell whether they were blue orblack, eyelashes of unusual length, and a pale face remarkable for itsstrength. But it was youthful and finely cut, while a wisp of bronzehair at the edge of the hood showed a gleam of gold as the sunshine fellacross it.
"I have heard that Southern gentlemen were always courteous, as I toldyou once before," she said.
"I thought I knew you, but made a mistake," Prescott replied, it beingthe first thing that came into his mind. "I fear that I have been rudeand I ask your pardon."
He lifted his hat and bowed humbly.
"You can show contrition by ceasing to follow me," she said, and thesharp tone of her accusation was still in her voice.
Prescott bowed again and turned away. He fully meant to keep his impliedpromise, but curiosity was too strong for him, and watching once morefrom a distance, he saw her go up Shockoe Hill and into the Capitolthrough the wide-open doors. When he found it convenient presently toenter the Capitol in his turn, he saw no trace of her, and, disappointedand annoyed with himself, he went back to the City Hall. Here Talbot wasthe first whom he met.
"Where have you been?" asked his friend.
"Following a woman."
"Following a woman?"
Talbot looked at Prescott in surprise.
"I didn't know you were that kind of a man, Bob," he said; "but whatluck?"
"None at all. I failed even to learn her name, where she lived oranything else about her. I'll tell you more this evening, because I wantyour advice."
The reception ended presently, and the ladies, escorted by the youngmen, went to their homes. Talbot, Winthrop and Raymond rejoined Prescottsoon afterward near Shockoe Hill.
"Now tell us of the woman you were following," said Talbot.
"I don't think I shall," replied Prescott. "I've changed my intentionabout it--at least, for the present."
The affair had clung to his mind and the result of his second thoughtwas a resolution to keep it to himself a while longer. He had formed asuspicion, but it might be wrong, and he would not willingly doinjustice to any one, least of all to a woman. Her face, when he saw herclose at hand, looked pure and good, and now that he recalled it hecould remember distinctly that there had been in it a touch of reproachand the reproach was for him--she had seemed to ask why he annoyed her.No, he would wait before speaking of her to his friends.
Talbot regarded Prescott for a moment with an inquiring gaze, but saidnothing more upon the subject.
Prescott left his friends at the Capitol and spent the remainder of theday with his mother, who on the plea of age had avoided the receptionand the festivities, although she now had many questions to ask.
"I hear that great enthusiasm was shown and brilliant predictions weremade," she said.
"It is quite true," he replied. "The music, the speeches and the highspirits, which you know are contagious in a crowd, have done good, Ithink, to the Southern cause."
"Did Morgan bring any new recruits for General Lee's army?"
"Now, mother," replied Prescott, laughing a little, "don't let yourNorthern blood carry you too far. I know, too, that wars are not won bymusic
and shouting, and days like to-day bring nothingsubstantial--merely an increase of hope; but after all, that is whatproduces substantial results."
She smiled and did not answer, but went on quietly with her sewing.Prescott watched her for awhile and reflected what a beautiful woman hismother must have been, and was yet, for that matter.
"Mother," he said presently, "you do not speak it aloud, but you cannotdisguise from me the fact that you think it would be better for theNorth to win."
She hesitated, but at last she said:
"I cannot rejoice whichever way this war ends. Are you not on the sideof the South? All I can pray for is that it may end quickly."
"In your heart, mother, you have no doubt of the result."
She made no reply, and Prescott did not pursue the subject.