“What makes you say that, Dorothea?” Mrs. May asked earnestly. “Because, when I came through the Northern army,” Dorothea explained, “all the men I saw looked well-fed and strong; everything they wanted was at hand to make them comfortable; and they were cheery and joked with each other; they were like boys on a holiday. But when I came through the Confederate lines it was awful, Aunt Parthenia. The men looked half starved. They were in rags and they looked so haggard and drawn, as if they actually suffered. It isn’t fair that they should be expected to fight against those strong men of the North. It isn’t fair, Aunt Parthenia!” “No, my dear, it isn’t fair,” her aunt agreed. “I wish this war had never come. There are those who still doubt my loyalty to the Confederacy, for I am not afraid to say we should never have seceded, yet I _am_ loyal to the South. It is my home, and the home of all my friends and relatives. I love it, but I have seen for a long time that there is only more suffering and misery in store for us—and, in the end, defeat. You will soon find to what shifts we have already been put to manage to live. And here in Georgia we are very well off. You are right that it isn’t fair to ask our men to go on fighting against overwhelming odds; but, my dear, don’t talk about that here. The feeling against the North is very bitter and any one who does not proclaim perfect confidence that the South will win is treated like a traitor.” “Of course, I’ve always wanted you to win,” Dorothea affirmed once more. “You will hear only that side of the matter in this house, honey,” Mrs. May cautioned. “We all want the South to win, now war is here; but some of us are very sorry that it was ever brought about. It was the politicians did it, and you will do well to remember that there are two sides to the story.” “Of course I don’t know very much about it,” Dorothea confessed. “Father, you know, doesn’t talk about the war at all, even to me. But it’s so different in the North. They have so much, and somehow it’s natural to want the weaker side to win. But, Aunt Parthenia, it is hard to believe that Mr. Lincoln is the cruel man they say he is down here. Once you’ve seen him and talked to him, you just can’t believe that.” “I am sure he is the best friend the South has, my dear,” Mrs. May half whispered; “but that is quite between ourselves. I shouldn’t dare say it to any one else I know. Particularly to April. Remember, honey, she is a very staunch Rebel.” “I always think that mother would have been a Rebel, too,” Dorothea said softly. “I fancy that’s the reason I am one.”