XXIV
A PARKED BATTERY CAN RAISE A DUST
Down in the camp the battery was forming into park; a pretty movement.The ladies watched it, the cavalrymen explaining. Now it was done. Thecommand broke ranks, and now its lieutenants joined the fair company anddrank its eulogies--grimly, as one takes a dram.
Back among the tents and mess fires--
"Fellows!" said the boys, in knots, "yonder's how he puts in his 'bestlicks' for us!" But their wanton gaze was also fond as it followed theprocession of parasols and sword-belts, muslins and gold lace thatsauntered down along the levee's crest in couples, Hilary and Annaleading.
Flora, as they went, felt a most unusual helplessness to avert a courseof things running counter to her designs. It is true that, havingpledged herself to the old General to seek a certain issue and to Irbyto prevent it, she might, whichever way the matter drifted, gather someadvantage if she could contrive to claim credit for the trend; an _if_which she felt amply able to take care of. To keep two men fooled was nogreat feat, nor even to beguile her grandmother, whose gadfly insistencecentred ever on the Brodnax fortune as their only true objective; but soto control things as not to fool herself at last--that was the pinch.It pinched more than it would could she have heard how poorly at thismoment the lover and lass were getting on--as such. Her subtleinterferences--a mere word yesterday, another the day before--werehaving more success than she imagined, not realizing how much they wereaided by that frantic untamableness to love's yoke, which, in Hilaryonly less than in Anna, qualified every word and motion.
Early in the talk of these two Hilary had mentioned his speech justmade, presently asking with bright abruptness how Anna liked it and,while Anna was getting her smile ready for a safe reply, had added thathe never could have made it at all had he dreamed she was looking on."Now if she asks why," he thought to himself in alarm, "I've got toblurt it out!"
But she failed to ask; only confessed herself unfit to judge anybody'sEnglish.
"English! oh, pass the English!" he said, he "knew how bad that was."What he wanted her criticism on was--"its matter--its spirit--whicheverit was, matter or spirit!" How comical that sounded! They took painsthat their laugh should be noticed behind them. Flora observed both thelaugh and the painstaking.
"Matter or spirit," said Anna more gravely, "I can't criticise it. Ican't even praise it--oh! but that's only be--because I haven't--thecourage!"
The lover's reply was low and full of meaning: "Would you praise it ifyou had the courage?"
She could have answered trivially, but something within bade her not."Yes," she murmured, "I would." It was an awful venture, madeunpreparedly, and her eyes, trying to withstand his, dropped. Yet theyrallied splendidly--"They've got to!" said something within her--and, "Icould," she blushingly qualified, "but--I could criticise it too!"
His heart warmed at her defiant smile. "I'd rather have that honor thana bag of gold!" he said, and saw his slip too late. Gold! Into Anna'sremembrance flashed the infatuation of the poor little schoolmistress,loomed Flora's loss and distress and rolled a smoke of less definitethings for which this man was going unpunished while she, herself, stoodin deadly peril of losing her heart to him.
"Oh, Captain Kincaid!" Like artillery wheeling into action came herinconsequent criticism, her eyes braving him at last, as bright as hisguns, though flashing only tears. "It was right enough for you to extolthose young soldiers' willingness to serve their country _when called_.But, oh, how _could_ you commend their _chafing_ for battle andslaughter?"
"Ah, Miss Anna, you--"
"Oh, when you know that the sooner they go the sooner comes theheartache and heartbreak for the hundreds of women they solight-heartedly leave behind them! I looked from Charlie to Flora--"
"You should have looked to Victorine. She wants the boy to go and herdad to go with him."
"Poor thoughtless child!"
"Why, Miss Anna, if I were a woman, and any man--with war comingon--could _endure_ to hang back at home for love of me, I should feel--"
"Captain Kincaid! What we womenkind may feel is not to the point. It'show the men themselves feel toward the women who love them."
"They ought," replied the soldier, and his low voice thrilled like asounding-board, "to love the women--out of every fibre of their being."
"Ah!" murmured the critic, as who should say, "checkmate!"
"And yet--" persisted this self-sung "ladies' man"--
"Yet what?" she softly challenged. (Would he stand by his speech, or hissong?)
"Why, honestly, Miss Anna, I think a man can love a woman--even hisheart's perfect choice--too much. I know he can!"
The small lady gave the blunderer a grave, brief, now-you-_have_-done-itglance and looked down. "Well, I know," she measuredly said, "that a manwho can _tell_ a woman that, isn't capable of loving her half enough."She turned to go back, with a quickness which, I avow, was beautifullyand tenderly different from irritation, yet which caused her petticoat'sfrail embroidery to catch on one of his spurs and cling till the wholelaughing bevy had gathered round to jest over Flora's disentanglement ofit.
* * * * *
"But really, Nan, you know," said Constance that evening in their home,"you used to believe that yourself! The day Steve left you said almostexact--"
"Con--? Ah, Con! I think the _sister_ who could remind a _sister_ ofthat--!" The sufferer went slowly up to her room, where half an hourlater she was found by Miranda drying her bathed eyes at a mirror andinstantly pretending that her care was for any other part of her faceinstead.
"Singular," she remarked, "what a dust that battery can raise!"