CHAPTER IV
MISS MITFORD'S INTERVENTION
The Captain stared after her departing figure; he listened to herfootfalls on the stair, and then came to an instant resolution. He wouldtake advantage of her opportune withdrawal. He turned back to the table,seized his hat, and started for the door, only to come face to face withanother charming young woman, who stood breathless before him to hisgreat and ill-concealed annoyance. Yet the newcomer was pretty enoughand young enough and sweet enough to give any man pause for the sheerpleasure of looking at her, to say nothing of speaking to her.
The resources of an ancient wardrobe, that looked as though it hadbelonged to her great-grandmother, had been called upon for a costumewhich was quaint and old-fashioned and altogether lovely. She wasevidently much younger than Edith Varney, perhaps just sixteen,Wilfred's age. With outstretched arms she barred the door completely,and Thorne, of course, came to an abrupt stop.
"Oh, good-evening," she panted, as soon as she found speech; she had runwithout stopping from her house across the street.
"Good-evening, Miss Mitford," he answered, stepping to one side to lether pass, but through calculation or chance she kept her position at thedoor.
"How lucky this is!" she continued. "You are the very person I wanted tosee. Let's sit down and then I'll tell you all about it. Goodness me, Iam all out of breath just running over from our house."
Thorne did not accept her invitation, but stood looking at her. An ideacame to him.
"Miss Mitford," he said at last, stepping toward her, "will you dosomething for me?"
"Of course I will."
"Thank you very much, indeed. Just tell Miss Varney when she comesdown--just say good-night for me and tell her that I've gone."
"I wouldn't do such a thing for the wide, wide world," returned CarolineMitford in pretended astonishment.
"Why not?"
"It would be a wicked, dreadful story, because you wouldn't be gone."
"I am sorry you look at it that way," said Thorne, "because I am going.Good-night, Miss Mitford."
But before he could leave the room, the girl, who was as light on herfeet as a fairy, caught him by the arm.
"No--you don't seem to understand. I've got something to say to you."
"Yes, I know," said Thorne; "but some other time."
"No, now."
Of course, he could have freed himself by the use of a little force, butsuch a thing was not to be thought of. Everything conspired to keep himwhen his duty called him away, he thought quickly.
"There isn't any other time," said Caroline, "it is to-night. We aregoing to have a Starvation party."
"Good Heavens!" exclaimed Thorne; "another!"
"Yes, we are."
"I can't see how it concerns me."
"It is going to be over at our house, and we expect you in half anhour."
"I shouldn't think you would want to play at this time."
"We are not going to play. We are going to make bandages and sandbagsand----"
"You won't need me."
"Yes, you can tell us the best way to----"
"Thank you, Miss Mitford, I can't come. I have my orders and I amleaving to-night."
"Now, that won't do at all," said the girl, pouting. "You went to MamieJones' party; I don't see why you should treat me like this."
"Mamie Jones!" said Thorne. "Why, that was last Thursday, and now I havegot orders, I tell you, and----"
But Caroline was not to be put off.
"Now, there's no use talking about it," she said vehemently.
"Yes, I see that."
"Didn't you promise to obey orders when I gave them? Well, these areorders."
"Another set," laughed Thorne.
"I don't know anything about any others. These are mine."
"Well, but this time----"
"This time is just the same as all the other times, only worse; besidesI told her you would be there."
"What's that?"
"I say she expects you, that's all."
"Who expects me?"
"Why, Edith, of course; who do you suppose I was talking about all thistime?"
"Oh, she expects me to----"
"Why, of course, she does. You are to take her over. You needn't stay ifyou don't want to. Now I will go and tell her you are waiting."
"Oh, very well," said Thorne, smiling; "if she expects me to take herover I will do so, of course, but I can't stay a moment."
"Well," said Caroline, "I thought you would come to your senses sometime or another. See here, Mr. Captain, was she 'most ready?"
"Well, how do I know."
"What dress did she have on?"
"Dress?"
"Oh, you men! Why, she's only got two."
"Yes; well, very likely, this was one of them, Miss Mitford."
"No matter, I am going upstairs to see, anyway. Captain Thorne, you canwait out there on the veranda or, perhaps, it would be pleasanter if youwere to smoke a cigar out in the summerhouse at the side of the garden.It is lovely there in the moonlight, and----"
"I know, but if I wait right here----"
"Those are my orders. It's cooler outside, you know, anyway, and----"
"Pardon me, Miss Mitford, orders never have to be explained, you know,"interrupted the Captain, smiling at the charming girl.
"That's right; I take back the explanation," she said, as Thorne steppedtoward the window; "and, Captain," cried the girl.
"Yes?"
"Be sure and smoke."
Thorne laughed, as he lighted his cigar and stepped out onto the porch,and thence into the darkness of the garden path.
"Oh," said Caroline to herself, "he is splendid. If Wilfred were onlylike that!" she pouted. "But then--our engagement's broken off anyway,so what's the difference. If he were like that--I'd---- No!--I don'tthink I'd----"
Her soliloquy was broken by the entrance of Mrs. Varney, who came slowlydown the room.
"Why, Caroline dear! What are you talking about, all to yourself?"
"Oh--just--I was just saying, you know--that--why, I don't know what Iwas---- Do you think it is going to rain?" she returned in greatconfusion.
"Dear me, child; I haven't thought about it. Why, what have you got on?Is that a new dress, and in Richmond?"
"A new dress? Well, I should think so. These are my great-grandmother'smother's wedding clothes. Aren't they lovely? Just in the nick of time,too. I was on my very last rags, or, rather, they were on me, and Ididn't know what to do. Mother gave me a key and told me to open an oldhorsehair trunk in the attic, and these were in it." She seized thecorners of her dress and pirouetted a step or two forward to show itoff, and then dropped the older woman an elaborate, old-fashionedcourtesy. "I ran over to show them to Edith," she resumed. "Where isshe? I want her to come over to my house."
"Upstairs, I think. I am afraid she can't come. I have just come fromher room," Mrs. Varney continued as Caroline started to interrupt, "andshe means to stay here."
"I will see about that," said Caroline, running out of the room.
Mrs. Varney turned and sat down at her desk to write a letter whichevidently, from her sighs, was not an easy task. In a short time thegirl was back again. Mrs. Varney looked up from writing and smiled ather.
"You see it was no use, Caroline," she began.
"No use," laughed the girl; "well, you will see. I didn't try topersuade her or argue with her. I just told her that Captain Thorne waswaiting for her in the summerhouse. Yes," she continued, as Mrs. Varneylooked her astonishment; "he is still here, and he said he would takeher over. You just watch which dress she has on when she comes down. NowI will go out there and tell him she'll be down in a minute. I have moretrouble getting people fixed so that they can come to my party than itwould take to run a blockade into Savannah every fifteen minutes."
Mrs. Varney looked at her departing figure pleasantly for a moment, andthen, with a deep sigh, resumed her writing, bu
t she evidently was notto conclude her letter without further interruption, for she hadscarcely begun again when Wilfred came into the room with a bundle veryloosely done up in heavy brown paper. As his mother glanced toward himhe made a violent effort to conceal it under his coat.
"What have you got there, Wilfred?" she asked incuriously.
"That? Oh, nothing; it is only--say, mother, have you written thatletter yet?"
"No, my dear, I have been too busy. I have been trying to write it,though, since I came down, but I have had one interruption afteranother. I think I will go into your father's office and do it there."She gathered up her paper and turned to leave the room. "It is a hardletter for me to write, you know," she added as she went away.
Wilfred, evidently much relieved at his mother's departure, took thepackage from under his coat, put it on the table, and began to undo it.He took from it a pair of very soiled, dilapidated, grey uniformtrousers. He had just lifted them up when he heard Caroline's step onthe porch, and the next moment she came into the room through the longFrench window. Wilfred stood petrified with astonishment at the suddenand unexpected appearance of his young beloved, but soon recoveredhimself and began rolling the package together again, hastily andawkwardly, while Caroline watched him from the window. She coldlyscrutinised his confusion while he made his ungainly roll, and, as hemoved toward the door, she broke the silence.
"Ah, good-evening, Mr. Varney," she said coolly.
"Good-evening," he said, his voice as cold as her own.
They both of them had started for the hall door and in another secondthey would have met.
"Excuse me," said Caroline, "I'm in a hurry."
"That's plain enough. Another party, I suppose, and dancing."
"What of it? What's the matter with dancing, I'd like to know."
"Nothing is the matter with dancing if you want to, but I must say thatit is a pretty way of going on, with the cannon roaring not six milesaway."
"Well, what do you want us to do? Cry about it! I have cried my eyes outalready; that would do a heap of good now, wouldn't it?"
"Oh, I haven't time to talk about such petty details. I have someimportant matters to attend to," he returned loftily.
"It was you that started it," said the girl.
Wilfred turned suddenly, his manner at once losing its badly assumedlightness.
"Oh, you needn't try to fool me," he reproached her; "I know well enoughhow you have been carrying on since our engagement was broken off. Halfa dozen officers proposing to you--a dozen for all I know."
"What difference does it make?" she retorted pertly. "I haven't got tomarry them all, have I?"
"Well, it isn't very nice to go on like that," said Wilfred with an airinto which he in vain sought to infuse a detached, judicial, andindifferent appearance. "Proposals by the wholesale!"
"Goodness me!" exclaimed Caroline, "what's the use of talking about itto me. They're the ones that propose, I don't. How can I help it?"
"Oh," said Wilfred loftily, "you can help it all right. You helped itwith me."
"Well," she answered, with a queer look at him, "that was different."
"And ever since you threw me over----" he began.
"I didn't throw you over, you just went over," she interrupted.
"I went over because you walked off with Major Sillsby that night wewere at Drury's Bluff," said the boy, "and you encouraged him topropose. You admit it," he said, as the girl nodded her head.
"Of course I did. I didn't want him hanging around forever, did I?That's the only way to finish them off. What do you want me todo--string a placard around my neck, saying, 'No proposals receivedhere. Apply at the office'? Would that make you feel any better? Well,"she continued, as the boy shrugged his shoulders, "if it doesn't makeany difference to you what I do, it doesn't even make as much as that tome."
"Oh, it doesn't? I think it does, though. You looked as if you enjoyedit pretty well while the Third Virginia was in the city."
"I should think I did," said Caroline ecstatically. "I just love everyone of them. They are going to fight for us and die for us, and I lovethem."
"Why don't you accept one of them before he dies, then, and have donewith it? I suppose it will be one of those smart young fellows with acavalry uniform."
"It will be some kind of a uniform, I can tell you that. It won't be anyone that stays in Richmond."
"Now I see what it was," said Wilfred, looking at her gloomily. "I hadto stay in Richmond, and----"
The boy choked up and would not finish.
"Well," said Caroline, "that made a heap of difference. Why, I was theonly girl on Franklin Street that didn't have a--some one she wasengaged to--at the front. Just think what it was to be out of it likethat! You have no idea how I suffered; besides, it is our duty to helpall we can. There aren't many things a girl can do, but ColonelWoolbridge--he's one of Morgan's new men, you know--said that the boysfight twice as well when they have a--sweetheart at home. I couldn'twaste an engagement on----"
"And is that why you let them all propose to you?" rejoined the youthbitterly.
"Certainly; it didn't hurt me, and it pleased them. Most of 'em willnever come back to try it again, and it is our duty to help all we can."
"And you really want to help all you can, do you?" asked Wilfreddesperately. "Well, if I were to join the army would you help me--thatway?"
This was a direct question. It was the _argumentum ad feminam_ with avengeance. Caroline hesitated. A swift blush overspread her cheek, butshe was game to the core.
"Why, of course I would, if there was anything I--could do," sheanswered.
"Well, there is something you can do." He unrolled his package andseized the trousers by the waistband and dangled them before her eyes."Cut those off," he said; "they are twice too long. All you have to dois to cut them here and sew up the ends, so that they don't ravel out."
Caroline stared at him in great bewilderment. She had expected somethingquite different.
"Why, they are uniform trousers," she said finally. "You are going tojoin the army?" She clapped her hands gleefully. "Give them to me."
"Hush! don't talk so loud, for Heaven's sake," said Wilfred. "I've got ajacket here, too." He drew out of the parcel a small army jacket, aprivate soldier's coat. "It's nearly a fit. It came from the hospital.Johnny Seldon wore it, but he won't want it any more, you know, and hewas just about my size, only his legs were longer. Well," he continued,as the girl continued to look at him strangely, "I thought you said youwanted to help me."
"I certainly do."
"What are you waiting for, then?" asked Wilfred.
The girl took the trousers and dropped on her knees before him.
"Stand still," she said, as she measured the trousers from the waistbandto the floor.
"This is about the place, isn't it?"
"Yes, just there."
"Wait," she continued, "until I mark it with a pin."
Wilfred stood quietly until the proper length had been ascertained, andthen he assisted Caroline to her feet.
"Do you see any scissors about?" she asked in a businesslike way.
"I don't believe there are any in the drawing-room, but I can get somefrom the women sewing over there. Wait a moment."
"No, don't," said the girl; "they would want to know what you wantedwith them, and then you would have to tell them."
"Yes," said the boy; "and I want to keep this a secret between us."
"When are you going to wear them?"
"As soon as you get them ready."
"But your mother----"
"She knows it. She is going to write to father to-night. She said shewould send it by a special messenger, so we ought to get an answer byto-morrow."
"But if he says no?"
"I am going anyway."
"Oh, Wilfred, I am so glad. Why, it makes another thing of it," criedthe girl. "When I said that about staying in Richmond, I didn't know----Oh, I do want to help all I can."
"Yo
u do? Well, then, for Heaven's sake, be quick about it and cut offthose trousers. So long as I get them in the morning," said Wilfred, "Iguess it will be in plenty of time."
"When did you say your mother was going to write?"
"To-night."
"Of course, she doesn't want you to go, and she'll tell your father notto let you. Yes," she continued sagely, as Wilfred looked up,horror-stricken at the idea; "that's the way mothers always do."
"What can I do, then?" he asked her.
"Why don't you write to him yourself, and then you can tell him justwhat you like."
"That's a fine idea. I'll tell him that I can't stay here, and that I'mgoing to enlist whether he says so or not. That'll make him say yes,won't it?"
"Why, of course; there'll be nothing else for him to say."
"Say, you are a pretty good girl," said Wilfred, catching her handimpulsively. "I'll go upstairs and write it now. You finish these assoon as you can. You can ask those women for some scissors, and whenthey are ready leave them in this closet, but don't let any one see youdoing it, whatever happens."
"No, I won't," said Caroline, as Wilfred hurried off.
She went over to the room where the women were sewing, and borrowed apair of scissors; then she came back and started to cut off the trouserswhere they were marked. The cloth was old and worn, but it was,nevertheless, stiff and hard, and her scissors were dull. Men spenttheir time in sharpening other things than women's tools during thosedays in Richmond, and her slender fingers made hard work of theamputations. Beside, she was prone to stop and think and dream of hersoldier boy while engaged in this congenial work. She had not finishedthe alteration, therefore, when she heard a step in the hall. She caughtup the trousers, striving to conceal them, entirely forgetful of thejacket which lay on the table.
"Oh," said Mrs. Varney, as she came into the room; "you haven't goneyet?"
"No," faltered the girl; "we don't assemble for a little while, and----"
"Don't assemble?"
"I mean for the party. It doesn't begin for half an hour yet, and----"
"Oh; then you have plenty of time."
"Yes," said Caroline. "But I will have to go now, sure enough." Sheturned away and, as she did so, her scissors fell clattering to thefloor.
"You dropped your scissors, my dear," said Mrs. Varney.
"I thought I heard something fall," she faltered in growing confusion.
She came back for her scissors, and, in her agitation and nervousness,she dropped one of the pieces of trouser leg on the floor.
"What are you making, Caroline?" asked Mrs. Varney, looking curiously atthe little huddled-up soiled piece of grey on the carpet, while Carolinemade a desperate grab at it.
"Oh, just altering an old--dress, Mrs. Varney. That's all."
Mrs. Varney looked at her through her glasses. As she did so, Caroline'sagitated movement caused the other trouser leg, with its half-severedend hanging from it, to dangle over her arm.
"And what is that?" asked Mrs. Varney.
"Oh--that's--er--one of the sleeves," answered Caroline desperately,hurrying out in great confusion.
Mrs. Varney laughed softly to herself. As she did so, her glance fellupon the little heap of grey on the table. She picked it up and openedit. It was a grey jacket, a soldier's jacket. It looked as if it mightbe about Wilfred's size. There was a bullet hole in the breast, andthere was a dull brown stain around the opening. Mrs. Varney kissed theworn coat. She saw it all now.
"For Wilfred," she whispered. "He has probably got it from some deadsoldier at the hospital, and Caroline's dress that she was altering----"
She clasped the jacket tightly to her breast, looked up, and smiled andprayed through her tears.
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