Mara; or, The Earth Trembled.

Evening Star, Issue 7431, 28 January 1888, Page 1 (Supplement)

Mara; or, The Earth Trembled.

. A BTORT OF THE CHARI,ESTON EARTHQUAKE.

[Bvr E. P. Roe.] CHAPTER XV. TWO LITTLE BAKERS, Mara led Captain Bodine up to their little parlor aud introduced him to Mrs Hunter, who received him most cordially, feeling that in him she recognised a congenial spirit, lie treated her with the respect and old-time courtesy which she said was so “truly Southern.” Their feelings and beliefs touched closely at several points, yet they were very different in their essential characteristics. Poor Mrs Hunter had been limited by nature and education. She could not help being narrow in all her views ; she was scarcely less able to dismiss her intense, bitter prejudices. She was quite incapable of reasoning herself into her mental position ; it was simply the inevitable result of her circumstances, her lot and her own temperament. Captain Bodinc was a proud man, as proud toward himself as toward others. The cause for which he and his kindred had suffered and lost so much had been sacred, and therefore it ever would be sacred. To change his views, to begin revising bis opinions, would bo to stultify himself and to reflect dishonor on his comrades in arms who had perished. In the very depths of his young, ardent spirit he had once devoted himself to the South; he had listened reverently to prayers from the pulpit that God would bless the Southern armies ; he had never entered into battle without petitions to Heaven, not that he might escape, but that the “Northern invader” might be overcome ; his uniform had been stained with blood again and again as he held dying comrades in his arms and spoke words of cheer. In his more limited way he had the spirit of “ Stonewall ” Jackson. It was impossible for a man with his nature and with his memories to argue the whole matter over coolly and recognise misleading errors. During his youth and early mauhood his feeling had been so intense as to be volcanic, and that feeling, like lava, had cooled off into its present unchangeable forms and sombre hues. What was bitterness and almost spite in Mrs Hunter was a deep, abiding sorrow in his heart, a great dream unfulfilled, a cause, lofty because so idealised, in support of which he often saw in fancy, when alone, spectral thousands in grey marching as he once had seen them in actual life. That all had been in vain was to him one of those mysterious providences to which he could only bow his head in mournful resignation, in painful endurance. He had no hate for the North, for he was broad enough in mind to recognise that it saw the question from its point ot view, and, as a soldier, lie knew that its men had fought gallantly. But the North’s side of the question was not his side. He had been conquered in arms but not convinced in spirit. While he had respect and even admiration for many of his old foes, and malice towards none, he still felt that there was a bridgeless chasm between them, and, by the instincts of his nature, he kept himself aloof. If he could perform an act of kindness to a Northerner he would do so unhesitatingly ; then he would turn away with the impulse of an alien. He had no ambitious schemes or .hopes for the future; he had buried the “ lost cause ” as ho had buried bis wife, with a grief that was too deep for tears. He had come to value life only for Ella’s sake, aud he tried to do his beat from a soldier-like and Christian sense of duty, until he, too, could join his old comrades in arms. Mrs Hunter could not comprehend such a man, and he gave to her but the casual, respectful sympathy which he thought duo to a gentlewoman who had lost much, like so many other thousands in the South. After a brief call he hobbled away on his crutches, forgetting Mrs Hunter, and, indeed, almost everything m the deep interest excited by Mara, tVic cla.wg\\tcr of Kis old friend. “Would to God,” ho muttered, “that Sidney Wallingford could have lived and scon that girl look at him as she looked at me to-day !” Soon after Captain Bodine’s departure Mara pleaded fatigue and retired to her room, promising to answer her aunt’s many questions on the morrow. She was very sad and discouraged with herself, and yet she had not the despairing sense of the utter futility of her life which had oppressed her when she started out iu the early afternoon. She had become so absorbed and interested by the incidents and experiences of her visit as to bo almost happy. Just as she had attained a condition of mind which had not blessed her for months she must meet Owen Clancy. Witli a sort of inward rage and wonder she asked herself: “ Why did my heart flutter so ? Why did every nerve in my body tingle? lie is nothing to me, and never can be ; yet when he passed, a spirit from Heaven could hardly have moved me more. What is his mysterious power which I cannot eradicate ? Oh, oh ! was not my life hard enough before ? Must I go on hiding this bitter secret—fighting this hopeless and seemingly endless fight ? Well, well, thank God for tills day, after all ! In Ella Bodino and her father I have found friends who will occupy my thoughts and become incentives, which I did not possess before. Dear father—my own dear, dead, soldier father—it would please you to have me do something for your old friend.” The next morning was bright and sunny, and after an early breakfast Mara wq,s iu the kitchen, with all the ingredients of the dainties she so skillfully produced spead out upon the tables. Ella had been asked to come early ; her father had escorted her to Mara’s residence and then gone on, on an errand of his own. The young girl was greeted with a warmth which made her at home at once, and proved that the experiences of the previous afternoon were not the result of mood or passing sentiment. There was a depth in Mara’s eyes and a firmness about her mouth aud chin which did not indicate changing and unreasoning “moods and tenses.” In the clearer, calmer thought of the morning all her kind purposes toward Captain Bodinc and Ella had been strengthened, and she also believed more fully that by interesting herself in them she would find the best antidote for her own trouble. Ella had been welcomed by Mrs Hunter, and now, as she sat in the little sun-lighted kitchen, there were neither past nor future to her. The present scene, with its simple, homely details, was all-absorbing. It meant very much to the girl, for she saw how Mara was achieving independence, and by work, too, which housekeeping for her father enabled her to understand better than any other. Mara’s pulses were also quickened, for she understood the eagar, intelligent glances of her friend. For a few moments Ella, as company, felt compelled to maintain the quiet position of spectator, then, overborne, she sprang up, exclaiming. “ Oh, Mara, dear, do give me an apron and let me help you ! X’tl have such a jolly forenoon !” “ Why, certainly, Ella, if it would give you pleasure.” The article was produced, and, with a sigh of deep content, the girl tied it around a waist by no means waspish. Then off came the little cuffs and up the sleeves were rolled to the shoulder. “ Ella, what lovely arms you have ! If I wore a man I should be distracted by such a pair of arms.” “ Well,” remarked the girl, looking at them complacently, “they’d bo strong enough to help a man that I cared sufficiently for to marry, but I haven’t seen that man yet, and I hope his lordship will keep his distance indefinitely, till 1 have more time to bother with him and his distractions.” “ Is your time, then, so completely occupied ?” “It isn’t occupied at all, and that’s the plague of it. But! reckon It soon will be," she added with an emphatic little nod. “ Papa shall learn that 1 can do something more for him than cook, and your example has fired my ambition. I’ll ransack this town till I find something to do that will bring money. Dear old Mrs Bodino ! Wasn’t she perfectly enchanting yesterday ? Do you think I can be content to live in idleness on her slender means? No, indeed. I’d buy a scrubbing-brush first. Oh, isn’t this fun ?” and the flour was already up to her elbows.

“ Oh, Ella dear, I’d feel just as you do if I had a father to work for.” “Now, Mara, don’t talk so, or I’ll put my floury arms right about your neck and spoil this dough with a flood of briny tears. See, the sun is shining, and there is work to be done. Let’s be jolly, and we’ll have our little weep after sundown. Oh, Mara, dear, I wish I could make you as light-hearted as I am. I used to think it almost wicked for me to be so light-hearted, but I don’t think so any more, for I know I’ve kept papa from going down into horrid depths of gloom. And then this irresponsible spirit of fun helps me over ever so many hard places.” She sprung back into the middle of the room, and, striking a serio-comic attitude, continued : “ Hero I am iu no end of trouble —for me. There is a grief preying on my vitals that would make a poet’s hair stand on end should he attempt to portray it. Were there a lover around the corner sighing like a furnace, I would say to him ‘ Avaunt! My heart is broken, and do you think I can bother with you?’ I am at odds with fate. I am in the most deplorable position into which any human being can sink. I have nothing to do. But here is a weapon by which one girl has conquered destiny,” and she brandished the roller with which siie had been pressing out the dough, “ and I, too, shall find a sword which will cut off the pesky knots of this snarled-up old world. Then when I have achieved complete and lofty victory and independence, as you have, dear, I may say to the lover around the corner: ‘Step this way, sir. I must consider first whether you would be agreeable to papa, and then whether you would be agreeable to me, and then ’ Oh, what a little fool I am, and so many cookies to make. Please don’t send me home. I will work now like a beaver,” and her round white arms grew tense as she rolled witli a vigor that would almost flatten brickbats, Mara stood at one side watching her with eyes that grew wonderfully lustrous, as was ever the case when she was pleased or excited. Then she stole up behind Ella, and, putting her arms around her neck, looked into her eyes as she asked, “ Wouldn’t you like to help me ? ” “ Of course I like to help you,” said Ella, turning with surprise upon her friend. “ Now, Ella, be frank with me. Say no if you feel no. Wouldn’t you like to help mo all the time and earn money iu this way ? ” A slow, deep flush overspread Ella’s face as she stood for a moment with downcast eyes as if opressed with a sense of shame. Then she said humbly : “ Forgive me, Mara, I’ve been very thoughtless. I didn’t think you would take my ranting as an appeal to your generous heart. Believe me, Mara, I was not hinting to you that I might share in the little you are earning so bravely. As if you had not burdens enough already.” Mara never once removed her eyes from the girl’s ingenuous face and permitted her to reveal the unselfishness and sacred pride of her nature : then she said gently and firmly : “ No, Ella, I did not misunderstand you a moment, and I want you to understand mo. In one sense we have been acquainted always, yet we have loved each other from personal knowledge but a few short hours. We Southern girls need no apologies for our swift intuitions, our quick, warm feelings. I had this on my mind as soon as Mrs Bodine told me about your being here, and I had quite set my heart upon it as soon as I saw you. Ella, dear, I need help ; I have more than I can do. There is business to support us both, and I had almost concluded to ask Aunt Sheba to get me a helper. But what a delight it would be to work with you.” Ella’s face had been brightening as if gathering all the sunshine in the spring sky, and she was about to speak eagerly when Mara stopped her by a gesture. “Wait,” she said ; “ I did not say anything of this last evening because I was not sure you would like the work. If you do not like it, you must bo frank and tell mo so. If you do onter on it, you must let me manage all in business-like ways, for I fear that you, like Aun’ Sheba, will be inclined toward very loose accounts. You must be willing to ta.ke \vUa,t X feel that you sKoultl Uav©, and there must be no generons insubordination. Now you have the exact truth.” Ella’s lip was quivering and her eyes were filling with gathering tears. With a little quaver in her voice she struggled hard to give a mirthful conclusion to the affair. “ I accept the position, ma'am,” she faltered, making a courtesy, then rushed into her friend’s arms and sobbed : “ Oh, Mara, Mara, you have lifted such a burden from my heart! I have had many troubles, hut somehow it seemed that I couldn’t bear this one, though I tried hard to keep the pain to myself -papa and I being dependent. And then to have the whole trouble banished by working with you in just the kind of work I like ! Oh, Mara, darling, how can I ever thank you enough ?” “ Good La wd, honey, hab you heerdon any ob you’se folks dyin’?” and Aim’ Sheba’s awed face and ample form filled the doorway, with Vilet’s wondering little visage peeping around behind her, Ella sprung away, and, turning her back on the new-comers, mopped her face vigorously with her floury apron. “No, Aun’ Sheba,”replied Mara, smiling through her tears, for Ella’s strong emotion had unsealed the fountain of her eyes, “ I’ve only followed your good advice and secured just the kind of help 1 need, the daughter of my father’s dear old friend, Captain Bodine, I reckon you remember him.” *• Well, now, do Lawd be bressed!” ejaculated Aim’ Sheba, sitting down with her great basket at her feet. “’Member him ?’ Reckon I does. I kin jes see the han’som boy as he march aw'ay wid you’se fader. An’ his little missy is youse helper ?” and she looked curiously at Ella, who was still seeking to gain self-control. The girl wheeled around with a face wonderfully stained with flour and tears, and, ducking just such a courtesy as Vilet would have made, said to Aun’ Sheba: “ Yes’m. I’m the new hand. I’m a baker by trade,” Aunt Sheba’s appreciation of humor was instantaneous, and she sat back in her chair, which shook and groaned under her merriment. “ Can’t fool dis culled pusson,” she began at last. “ You tink we don’t keep up wid de times, but we does. Use had a berry int’resting season wid ole Hannah, who lib wid Miss Bodine, breas her heart! She’s quality yere on arth, an’ she’s gwine ter bo quality in Hebin. 7. knows a heap ’bout you an’ you’se pa. I knowd him’ fore you did. I’se seed him in de gran’ ole house in Meetin’ street, an’ dinin’ agin an’ agin wid Marse Wallingford an’ my deah Missy Mary, den a bride, and de gran’ ole Major Buggone. Oh, Missy Mara, if you could only seen de old Major you'd a seen a genywine So’ Car’liny gen’l’man ob wat dey call de ole school. Reckon dey habn’t any bettah schools now. An’ young Marse Sidney, dat’s you’se fader, missy, an’ young Marse Hugh, dat's you’se fader, Missy Ella; dey was han’some as pictures, an’ dey drink toasts ter Missy Mary an’ compliment her, an’ she’d blush like a red rose, an’ when dey all ’bout ter march away Missy Mary kiss Marse Hugh jes as if he her own broder. Lor, Lor, how it all come l>aclc ter me. Ef de Eawd don* breas de pa’na’ship twix you two gurls den I jes dun beat.” Regardless of flour the two little bakers stood before Aun’ Sheeba with arms around each other while she engaged in reminiscences ; then Ella, brushing away the tears that were gathering again, said brusquely : “ The new hand will have to be boss if we go on this way. Aun’ Sheba, we haven’t got a blessed thing ready to put in your basket.” “ Many ban’s make light wuk,” said the old woman sententiously. “ I come yero arly dis mawnin’ to gib Missy Mara a lif, base she’s been lookin’ po’ly an’ I hab her on my min,’ anxious-likc, But now, wid a larfin’ sunshiny little ting like you aroun’, Missy Ella, she’ll soon be as pert as a cricket. Vilet, chile, jes wait on me, an’ ban’ me tings, and deso two baskets’ll be filled in the quickest jiffey you eber see.” And so it turned out. Aunt Sheba was a veteran in the field. Flour, sugar, and spices seemed to recognise her power, and to come together as if she conjured. The stove was fed like the furnace of Nebuchadnezzar, and the girls’ faces suggested peonies as the cake grew light and brown. Mrs Hunter, having finished her morning duties, entered at last, and looked with doubtful, troubled eyes upon the scene, Ella’s and Aunt Sheba’s mirthful talk ceased, while little Vilet regarded the tall, grey-haired woman with awe. “Well, times have changed,” said the

woman, with a sort of groan. “Our home has become little better than a bakeshop.” Well, missus,” replied Aunt Sheba with the graven-image expression that she often assumed before Mrs Hunter, “I’seknow’d of homes dat hab become wuss dan bakeshops. Nebcr in my bawn days hab I heard on an active, prosp’rous baker starvin’. Jes’ you try dis cooky right fum de stove, an’ see ef it don’ melt in you’se mouf.” And so Aunt Sheba stopped Mrs Hunter’s lamentations and clinched her argument. CHAPTER XVI. lIOXEST FOES, Captain Bodiue’s errand was characteristic, of the man. He had accepted his cousin’s hospitality and sympathy most gratefully, and his quick apprehension had gathered from some of her words that she was bent on moving her little segment of “ Heaven and earth” to secure him employment. While perfectly ready to receive any gracious benefactions from Heaven, where he justly believed that the good old lady’s power centred chiefly, he shrank from her terrestrial efforts in his behalf, knowing that they must be made, with very few exceptions, among those who were straitened and burdened already. He did not want a “place made” for him and to feel that other Southern men were practising a severer self-denial in order to do so. With a grim, set look on his face, as if he were going into battle, he halted down town to the counting-room of one of the wealthiest merchants and shippers in the city. He knew this man only by reputation, and his friends would regard an application for employment to Mr Houghton as extraordinary as it certainly would be futile in their belief. Mr Houghton was quite as bitter against the South in general and Charleston in particular as Mrs Hunter in her enmity of all that savored of the North ; and, as human nature goes, they both had much reason, or rather cause, for their sentiments. The experiences of many of that day were not conducive to calm historical estimates or to “ the charity that suffereth long and is kind.” Mr Houghton was a New England man, and hated slavery almost as intensely as it deserved to be hated. The trouble with him had been that he did not separate the “ peculiar institution ” widely enough from the men who had been taught by their fathers, mothers, and ministers to believe in it, lie made no allowances for his Southern fellow-citizens, as many of them would make none for him. With him it was “ Slave driver,” with them “Abolitionist;” yet he revered and they revered the great-hearted planter of Mount Vernon. When the war canle at last to teach its terrible yet essential lessons, Mr Houghton’s eldest son was among the first to exercise the courage of the convictions which had always been instilled into his mind. The grim New Englander saw him depart with eyes that, although tearless, were full of agony, also of hatred of all that threatened to cost him so much. His worst fears were fulfilled, for his son was drowned in a night attack on Tort Sumter, and in his father's morbid fancy still lay in the mud and ooze at the bottom of Charleston Harbor. The region gained a strange fascination for the stricken man, and he at last resolved to live near his son’s wp.tcry grave, and take from the very hands of those whom he regarded as his boy’s murderers the business which they might regard as theirs naturally. So he removed to Charleston, and employed his capital almost as an instrument of revenge. He did not do this ostentatiously, or in any way that would thwart his purpose or desire to accumulate money, but his aims had come to bo very generally recognised, and he received as much hate as he entertained. Yet his wealth and business capacity made him a power in commercial circles; and Southern men, who would no more admit him to their homos than they would an ogre, dealt with him in a cool politeness that was but the counterpart of his grim civility. Captain Bodino knew that Mr Houghton employed much help in his business. He knew that the work of many of his employes tmxst tc largely mecVianlcixl, requiring little or no intercourse with the master, and the veteran reasoned : “I could give him honest work, and lie in return pay me my salary, wo personally not being under the slightest social obligation to each other. I’d rather wring money from his hard fist than take it from the open hand of a too generous friend. I could then get bread for Ella and myself on the simple ground of services rendered,” He therefore entered the outer office and asked for Mr Houghton. A clerk said : “He is very busy, sir. Can not I attend to your matter ?” “ I wish to see Mr Houghton personally.” “ Will you send in your card, sir ?” Captain Bodinc took one from his pocket and wrote upon it: “I wish to sec you briefly on a personal matter,” A moment later he was ushered into Mr Houghton’s presence, who was writing rapidly at his desk. Bodine stood still, balancing himself on his crutches, while the merchant finished the sentence. Ho looked at the hard wrinkled face and shock of white hair with the same steady composure that he had often faced a battery, as yet silent, but charged with fiery missiles. At last Mr Houghton looked up with an impatient word upon his lip, but checked it as he saw the striking figure before him. For an instant the two men looked steadily into each other’s eyes. Ever since the war Captain Bodine had dressed in gray, and Mr Houghton knew instinctively that his visitor was a Confederate veteran. Then the Captain’s mutilation caught his attention, and his very manhood compelled him to rise and stiffly offer a chair. “ You wished to see me personally,” he remarked coldly. “ I must request you to be brief, for I rarely allow myself to be disturbed at this hour.” “ I will be brief. I merely came to ask if you have employment for a tolerably rapid, accurate penman.” “ Do you refer to yourself?” Mr Houghton asked, his brow darkening. “Ido, sir.” “ Do you think this a sufficient excuse for interrupting me at this hour ?” “Yes, sir.” Again there was a fixed look in each other’s eyes, and Mr Houghton, with his large knowledge of men ana affairs, became more distinctly aware that he was not dealing with an ordinary character. He put his thoughts in words, for at times he could be very blunt, and ho was conscious of an incipient antagonism to Bodine. “You think you are a Southern gentleman—my equal, or, rather, my superior—and entitled to my respectful consideration at any hour of the day. ” “ I certainly think I am a Southern gentleman. Ido not for a moment think lam entitled to anything from you.” “Yet you come and ask a favor with as much dignity as if you represented the whole State of South Carolina.” “No, sir, I represent only myself, and I have asked no favor. There are many in your employ. I suppose your relations with them are those of business, not of favor.” “ Well, sir,” replied Mr Houghton, coldly, “there are plenty with whom I can enter into such relations without employing an enemy of my country.” “Mr Houghton, I will bring this interview to a close at once, and then you can settle this matter with a word. Your country will never receive any harm from me. lam one of a conquered people, and I have now no ambition other than that of earning bread for my child and myself. You have dealings with Southern men and ex-confederate soldiers. You buy from them and sell to them. I, as one of them, ask nothing more than that you should buy my labor for what it is worth to you in dollars and cents. Regard my labor as a bale of cotton, and the case is simple enough,” The lava crust over the arater of the old man’s heart was breaking up, for the interview was recalling all the associations which centred around the death of his son. Captain Bodine evoked a strange mixture of antipathy and interest. There was something in the man which his respect, and yet he seemed the embodiment of the spirit which the New Englander could neither understand nor tolerate. His thought had travelled far beyond business, and ho looked at his visitor with a certain wrathful curiosity. After a moment he said abruptly : “ You fought through the war, I suppose ?” VI fought till I was disabled, sir; but I tried to do a soldier’s duty to the close of the war.”

“ Duty!” ejaculated Mr Houghton with an accent of indescribable bitterness. “You would have killed my son if you had met him." “Certainly, if I met him in a fair fight and he did not kill me first.” “There wasn’t any fair fight at all," cried the old man passionately. “It was an atrocious, wicked, causeless rebellion.” The dark blood mounted to Captain Bodine’s very brow, but he controlled himself by a strong effort, and only said calmly “ That is your opinion.” The veins fairly stood out on Mr Floughton’s flushed, pallid face. “Do you know,” he almost hissed, “that my boy lies at the bottom of your accursed harbor yonder ?” “ I did not know it, sir, Ido know that the sons of Southern fathers and the fathers themselves lie beside him.” “Bat what was the use of it all? Damn the whole horrible crime ! What was the use of it all ?” A weaker, smaller brained man than Bodine would have retorted vehemently in kind and lelt the place, but the captain was now on his mettle and metaphorically in the field again, with the foe before him. What is more, he respected his enemy. This Northern man did not belong to the ex-Governor Moses type. He was outspoken and sincere to the heart’s core in his convictions, and, moreover, that heart was bleeding in father-love from a wound that could never be stanched. Bodine resolved to put all passion under his feet, to hold his ground with the coolness and tenacity of a general in a battle, and attain his purpose without the slightest personal compromise. His indomitable pride led him to feel that he would rather work for this honest, implacable foe than for any man in the city, because their relations would be so purely those of business, and to bring him to terms now would be a triumph over which he could inwardly rejoice. “Mr Houghton,” he said gravely, “we have wandered far from the topic which I at first introduced. Your reference to your son proves that you have a heart; your management of business certifies to a large brain. I think our conversation has made it clear that we are both men of decided convictions and are not afraid to express them. If you were a lesser man than you are, I would have shrugged nry shoulders contemptuously and left your office long ago. Yet I am your equal, and you know it, although I have scarcely a penny in the world. lam also as honest as you are, and I would work for you all the more scrupulously because you detest me and all that I represent. I, on the other hand, would not expect a single grain of allowance or consideration, such as I might receive from a kindly-disposed employer. We would not eompromise each other in the slightest degree by entering into the relation of employer and employed. I would obey orders as a soldier has learned to obey. Apart from business we should be strangers, I knew wo were hostile in our feelings, but I had the impression—which I trust may be confirmed—that you are not a commonplace enemy. The only question between us is ‘ Will you buy my labor as you would any other commodity in 'the Charleston market ? ’ ” Captain Bodine’s words proved his keen appreciation of character. The eld man unconsciously possessed the spirit of a soldier, and it had been evoked by the honest, uncompromising attitude of the Southerner. His emotion passed away. His manner became as courteous as it was cold and impassive. “You are right, sir,” he said; “ we are hostile, and will probably ever remain so, but you must put things in a light which enables me to comply with your wishes. I take you at your word, and will buy your labor as I would any other article of value. I know enough of life to be aware of the courtesy which occasionally exists between men whose feelings and beliefs strongly conflict, yet I agree with you that, apart from business, we can have little in common. When can you come ? ” “ To-morrow,” “ Are you willing to leave the question of compensation open till I can learn what your services are actually worth 7 ” “I should prefer to have the question settled that way.” Both men arose. “ Good morning, Captain Bodine,” said the merchant, bowing slightly. “ Good morning, Mr Houghton,” and the captain halted quietly back to Mrs Bodine’s home of faded gentility. Mr Houghton sat down at his desk and leaned his head thoughtfully upon his hand. “ I wouldn’t have believed thatl could have done this,” he muttered. “If he had knuckled to me one iota I would have shown him the door. If he hadn’t been so crippled, if he hadn’t been so downright honest and brave—confound it! he almost made me feel both like killing him and taking him by the hand. Oh, Herbert, my poor, lost boy, 1 don’t wonder that you and so many fine fellows had to die before such men were conquered.” CHAPTER XVII. FIRESIDE DRAMAS, Ella was so overjoyed at her prospects when all had been explained to her that she insisted on Mara’s spending the evening at the Bodincs’, so that her father might understand the whole arrangement. When she returned early in the afternoon, she found him, as Mara had before, reading quietly at one of the parlor windows. He looked up with not only glad welcome in his eyes, but also with much genuine interest, for he was anxious to learn what further impression Mara had made upon his daughter. The man who had accepted patient endurance as his lot could scarcely comprehend the profound impression made upon him by the child of his old friend. He had made no effort to analyse his feelings, not'dreaming that there was any reason why he should do this. To his mind circumstances and the girl herself were sufficient to account for the deepest sympathy. Then that look with which she had regarded him on the previous evening—he could never forget that while he lived. He therefore regarded Ella’s flushed, happy face, and said : “ You seem to hesitate in letting your experiences be known, but I reckon from the sparkle of your eyes that you have had a good time.” “Oh, papa, I have had a good time, so much more than a good time, I hesitate because I don’t know just how or where to begin—how to tell you all the good news. Dear papa, you have had so many more troubles than I have, and some perhaps which you think I do not share in very deeply. It was best for us both that I did not—too deeply. But you have a trouble now in which I do share more than you know, more than I wanted you to know. We were here dependent upon our dear old cousin, who is so unselfish that she would almost open her poor old veins for us. This was too hard for either of i;.s to endure very long, and I had made up my mind that I would do something to relieve you—that if Mara could earn money I could.” “My dear child, I appreciate your feelings and you have understood mine, but let me hasten to assure you that I have found a way by which I can support you and myself also. ” “You have? So soon? Oh, that is glorious. Tell me all about it.” “No, indeed. Not till I have your wonderful news and learn how you enjoyed your visit.” “ No more visiting for me, or rather perpetual visiting. Oh, papa, think what bliss! I’m to help Mara, work with Mara every day, and have a share in the profits.” The Captain’s face grew sad and almost stern ; Ella understood him instantly, and put her hand over his mouth as he was about to speak. “ Now, papa, don t you perform the same little tragedy that I did. I know just how you feel and what you are going to say. Mara had it in her mind the moment she heard I was in town, and ” “Ella,” interrupted her father firmly, “I do not often cross you, but you must let me decide this question. Mara is capable of any degree of self-sacrifice, or even something like a noble deception in this case. No, this cannot be. I would protect that girl even as I would you, and you both need protection against your own generous impulses more than all else.” In vain she tried to explain, and recounted minutely all that had happened. The Captain was so deeply touched that his eyes grew dim with moisture. Again he exclaimed: “ Would to God Sidney Wallingford had lived, even though poor and crippled as I am, that he might have worshipped this noble-hearted, generous girl,

She has, indeed, a rare nature. She carried out her self-sacrificing purpose well, but _ understand Ircr better than yon do, my dea * With all a woman’s wit, tact, and heart s * deceived you and would deceive ns all. S" smiled in triumph as she denied herself . our sakes what she most needed. B. Ella, you know we cannot let her do this.” The girl was staggered and In sore perplexity. Her father’s view was not pleasing to her ingenuous nature ; there had been a sincerity in Mara’s words and manner which had been confirmed, not only by circumstances, but also by Aunt Sheba’s hearty approval. “ I shall be sorry if what you think is true,” she said sadly. “I don’t wish to be deceived, not even from such motives as you attribute to Mara, and, of course, she could have no others if you arc right. But how can yon be right? There was such a verity about it all. Why, papa, when first I imagined that Mara might have thought 1 had been hinting in my very foolish talk that I wished what afterward took place, I was so overwhelmed with shame that I could hardly speak. If you had seen how she had reassured me, and heard her earnest words, declaring she needed me—oh, if that was all deception, even from the kindest and noblest motive, I should be wounded to the heart! I could never be euro of Mara again, and scarcely of anyone else. I can’t think as you do. Let us ask cousin and see what she thinks.” The captain was now in perplexity himself, yet he held to his first impression, “I admit,” he said hesitatingly, “that it was net the wisest course on Mara’s part; yet often the best people, especially when young, ardent, and a little morbid, are led by the noblest motives to do what is unwise and scarcely right, Mara is not an ordinary girl, and cannot be judged by common standards, fie assured she would die rather than deceive you to your harm ; bat a purpose to do you good might confuse both her judgment and conscience, especially if it involved self-sacrifice on her part. You must not blame me if I wish to be more thoroughly convinced. Yes, you can ask Cousin Sophy’s opinion if you wish.” “Then come with me, papa, and state your case as strongly as you can. I’d rather go hungry than go forward another step if you are right.” The wise old lady, who could talk by the hour on most occasions, listened to both sides of the question, and then remarked, with sphinx-like ambiguity: “ Your father, Ella, has obtained a remarkably correct idea of Mara’s character. You know I told her in your hearing that she had a passion for self-sacrifice, and was prone to take a morbid sense of duty. At the same time, Ido not by any means say he is right in this particular instance. Mara is coming this even-ing-let her satisfy yon both in her own way. I have my opinion, but would rather she would make the matter plain to you.” The shrewd old lady, to whom the wheels of time often seemed to move slowly, was bent on a bit of drama at her own fireside, at the same time believing that a word, a tone, or even a glance from the young girl herself would have more power to banish the Captain’s doubts than anything she could say. “And yet,” thought Mrs Bodine, “ Mara is capable of just this very kind of dissimulation.” Evening in the South differs slightly from our late afternoon, and the sun was scarcely below the horizon when Mara arrived under the escort of Mrs Hunter, who had also been invited. Therefore Ella, in her feverish impatience had not long to wait, Mrs Bodine’s simple meal was over, and after having had a fire lighted on the parlor hearth, she had ensconced herself in a low rocking-chair in readiness to receive her guests. There was a sort of stately cordiality in the meeting between her and Mrs Hunter, quiet courtesy on the part of Captain Bodine toward all, while honest Ella could not banish a slight constraint from her manner. Mara gradually became conscious of this, and wondered at it. She also soon observed that no reference was made to the compact of the morning, and this perplexed her still more. Meanwhile Mrs Bodine, having all the dramatis 'personae about her, was compla.cent.ly embodied and not adverse to taking a part in the little play herself. She managed at first that the conversation should be general. She serenely indulged in reminiscences which waked others from Mrs Hunter, and even the Captain was beguiled into half humorous old-time anecdotes about someone they all knew. “Well,” ejaculated Mrs Bodine, sighing, “ that—oh, good gracious ! what was I going to say ? Cousin Hugh, you can remember that my most excellent husband accustomed me to rather strong adjectives. Well, that hard-hearted old wretch, Mr Houghton, eventually got all the property of the poor man we were talking about,” “Did he?” said the Captain, quietly. “ Well, I reckon I’ll get some of it back again.” “ You ? I’d like to know how. He’d take your head off at one bite if he could.” “ I reckon he would; he looked so inclined this morning. I spent half an hour alone with him this morning, and am going to work for him to-morrow.” The general exclamations amounted to chorus, and Mrs Hunter, bridling, began formally and almost severely: “ Pardon me. Captain Bodine; I do not wish to be presuming or officious, but I fear that you have been absent fiom the city so long chat yon are not aware of the general estimation In which this Northern carpet-bagger is held.” “ I certainly have had a chance to form my own opinion of him, Mrs Hunter, and I reckon that he and I will not be any better friends than he and you would be,” •‘Friends!” ejaculated the old lady, **l could annihilate him. Ob, Captain Bodine* believe me, you have made a mistake. WhaV will be left of our past if the best and bravest of our number strike hands with these vampires of the North ? ” “ I have not struck bands with him, nor do I ever expect to.” “Hugh, Cousin Hugh,” protested Mrs Bodine, “ I don’t understand this move at all.” “Papa,” cried Ella, with her arms about his neck, “ you have done this for my sake, so do please give it up for my sake. Some other way wul be provided for us.” “ Mara, are you, too, down on me ?” “ No, sir, never; but I’ll share my last crust with you if you will have nothing to do with that man,” “I thought so, you brave, generous girl. That was like your father, and reminds me of a bit of experience. We were on a forced march, and the provision train had not kept up. It was night, and we were too weary to hunt around for a morsel of food. Wallingford (he was major then) came to me and said : ‘ Bodine, I’ve a hard tack and one cup of coffee. We’ll go halves ’; and so we did. He was so impolite as to take his half first. Do you know why !” “ I can guess,” she replied, with downcast, brimming eyes. “ I reckon you can —you of all others; but he didn’t succeed. I turned on him in mock severity and remarked: ‘Major Wallingford, I never thought you would try to overreach an old friend. See, you have scarcely taken over a third of tho coffee and hard taok.’ He slapped me on tho back amiss .id he would have me arrested for insubordinate, and disrespectful language. Considering what sleepy, jaded men we were, we had a lot of fun over that meager banquet, but he yield even if if he were my superior. I fear you are inclined to go halves just like your father.” “ Well, Hugh,” cried Mrs Bodine Impatiently, “ even that is better than your taking whatever this—this—l want an adjective that is not too wicked.” “No matter, Cousin Sophy, we’ll each supply one according to our own degree of wickedness. A Yankee would say ‘ darned,’ though, counfound the fellows, they seem to learn to fight and swear in equal degree.” “I won’t say ‘darned,’” said the old lady, almost trembling in her irritation and excitement, for she was being treated to more of a drama than she bargained for. “ It’s a word I never heard my husband use. Bah ! all words are inadequate. I say anything is better than that yon should go to this old Houghton for what little he may choose to give you.” “ Now, I appeal to you, Mara —is this fair, four against one ? ” “But, dear Captain Bodine, you don't know how deeply wo feel about this.” “ Ah, this is the charge our enemies bring against us. We feel, but don’t reason, they say. We have much . reason to retort: ‘You reason, but have no feeling and little comprehension for those who have,’

Conte, I will be serious now ” ; and his expression became grave and hrm. * 4 Cousin Sophy, Mr Houghton will never give me a penny, nor would I take a gift from him even if starving, yet I have a genuine respect for the man. Let me, as a soldier, illustrate rny course, and then I will explain more fully. Suppose I was on a march and was hungry. On one hand were ample provisions in the camp of the enemy ; on the other, a small frame house occupied by friends who had already been robbed of nearly all they had. If I went to these friends they would, as Mara has said, share their last crust. Do you not think it would bo more in accordance with the feelings of a man to make a dash at the enemy’s overflowing larder, and not only get what I needed, but also bring away something for my impoverished friends? I reckon it would. I much prefer spoiling the Egyptians, cost mo what it may. My dear child,” turning to Mara, “do you think I would take half your crust when I know you need the whole of it? No, indeed. Then you must remember that wo got iu tho habit of living off tho enemy during the war. To drop all this figurative talk, let file put the matter in plain English, as I did to Mr Houghton this morning. We had a pretty hot action, 1 can tell you. There was no compromise in word or manner on either aide; but he listened to reason, and so you will. Pick out your most blue-blooded, stanchest South.Carolinians in tho city, and Tieydeal with Mr Houghton. They sell to him ; they buy of him, and there it all ends. I have no cotton to sell, but I told him to regard my labor as a bale of cotton and to buy it, if he so wished, at what it was worth. I also told him that apart from our business relations we would bo strangers; so you see I am neither better nor worse, practically, no different from other Charlestonians.” Mrs Bodine leaned back in her chair and laughed till the tears came into her eyes. “I do declare,” she gasped, “God made man different from woman, and I reckon He knew what He was about. I surrender, Cousin Hugh. Your argument has blown me out of the water. Spoil this old Egyptian to yourheart’s content,only remember, when there are no Egyptians to spoil, if you don’t como to your friends you wiH have one savage old woman to deal with.” Mrs Hunter shook her head dubiously. “I don’t know what to think of all this,” she said. “ It appears to me that it tends to break down the partition wall between us and those from whom we have received wrongs which should never be forgiven.” “ My dear Mrs Hunter,” replied the Captain, urbanely, “ the more the partition wall is broken down in one sense the better. Isn’t it wiser for me to get money out of Mr Houghton than to sulk and starve ? I had to break through the wall to get bread. Of course,” he added, quietly, “ we all understand one another. My military figures of speech must not be pressed too far. I do not propose to knock Mr Houghton on the head, or even take the smallest possible advantage of him. On the contrary, because we are hostile, I shall be over-scrupulous, if possible, to do his work well. From him, as I told him, I expect not the slightest allowance, consideration, or kindness.” “Oh,” thought Mara, “how clearly he has put my own thought and wish. Why could not Owen Clancy have earned his own bread and mine by taking the course of this brave Southern man ? I have been shown to-night how noble, how dignified, and how easy it was. Why should he talk of love when he will not see what is so reasonable in the action of another ? ’ “ Cousin Hugh, you said one thing which needs explanation. You said you had a respect for this man Houghton, who, we all know, has not a particle of good-will toward us.” “Chiefly because ho is such an iionest enemy,” Bodine replied. “ He makes hard bargains with our people when he can, but have you ever heard of his cheating or doing anything underhand ? I learned a good deal about his business character while in Georgia, and his course to-day corresponded with what I had been told. Moreover, his feelings got the better of him, and he revealed in one passionate sentence that his eldest son was killed, and, as he says, lies at the bottom of our harbor here. This fact enabled mo to stand better what I had to take from him”; and in answer to his cousin’s questions he revealed the substance of theinterview. “I do this,” he concluded, “that you and other friends may better understand my course. To-morrow Mr Houghton becomes ray employer, and I shall owe a certain kind of loyalty. The more seldom we mention his name thereafter the better; and I shall never speak of him except in terms of cold respect.” “ Since you have told me about his son,” said Mrs Bodine, “I won’t avail myself of the privilege of freeing my mind to-night, even if it will be my last chance—that is, when you are present. After all, why should I berate him ? In one aspect he is to me a sort of ogre, representing all that is harsh, intolerant, and cruel, rejoicing in his power to drain tho life-blood of a conquered and impoverished people; yet he rose before me as you spoke as a heart-broken father, warped and made unnatural by pain, haunted by the ghost of his son whom his arms cannot embrace. Sometimes, when thinking alone, the people of the world seem like a lot of squabbling children, with only degrees of badness and goodness between them. Children make no allowances for each other. It is like or dislike, quick and manifested. It is well there is a Heavenly Father over all who may lead one and all of us to ‘ make up ’ some day. I tell you what It is, Hugh, we may all have to shake hands in Heaven.” “ Like enough, Cousin Sophy. In matters pertaining to Heaven you arc a better authority than I am.” “ For very good reason. Heaven is nearest those who feel its need most. You may think I am a queer Christian, and 1 sometimes think so myself—hating some people as near as 1 dare, and calling old Houghton a wretch. Don’t I know about his heartache ? Who better than I ? God knows I would give his son back to him if I could. God knows I can almost swear at him. He knows also that if he were brought into this house wounded I’d nurse him wi.th my feeble hands as I would you, Cousin Hugh ; but I would be apt to say when he got well” (and here came in her little chirping laugh), “ ‘Good sir, I have not the slightest objection to your going back to Massachusetts, bag and baggage.’ By the way, he has another son who has not been much in Charlestonbeing educated in tho North, they say. He must be a grown man now. I was told that when here last he resented the fact bitterly that there was some society in town which he could not enter.” “I reckon not,” remarked Mrs Hunter, grimly; and then followed some desultory conversation between the two elder ladies. As was frequently his custom—in common with men whose past is more than their future promises to be—the captain had lapsed into a train of thought which took him far away from present surroundings, He was roused by Mrs Hunter’s preparations for departure, and, looking suddenly at Mara, saw that her eyes were filled with tears. He was at her side instantly, and, taking her hand, asked gently “ What troubles you, my child ? ” With bowed head she replied : “I understand you, Captain Bodine; your words have made everything clear to me.” He still held her hand and thought a moment. “ About Ella’s coining to you ?” he asked. “ Yes; I’m not one of the Egyptians, but I’d so set my heart on it.” “Because of your need not Ella’s?” again the Captain queried, while his grasp on her hand tightened. “Oh, Captain Bodine, do you think I could deceive you or a girl like Ella under any circumstances ? If she did not come after to-day, I feel that I should give up in despair very soon. I do need help, and just Buon help to body and mind as she can give me,” “ Forgive me, Mara. The little story I told about your father explains why I feared. But we will say no more about it. I would rather have Ella with you than with anyone else in the world.” “There,” cried that buoyant voung Woman, " I knew I was right. Out 6i tho mouths of babes and sucklings you old people are destined to learn wisdom.” “Well,” said Mrs Bodine, “I’v.e had more drama to-night than 1 reckoned on, and I haven’t been leading lady either. Will the chief baker escort me to the diningroom ?” After cake and cretin, the Captain escorted

Mrs Hnntcr and Mara home. He detained the latter at tho door a moment, and said gently: “ Mara, shun the chief danger of your life. Never bo unfair to yourself." (To he continued,)