He walked with her and her mother to the train that evening, and Mrs. Capelle invited him warmly and graciously to call upon them when he came to Marietta again. "He is interesting," she said to Madeline, with a backward glance through the car window at his tall, slight figure as the train swept them away from the station. "Do you think so, _chérie_ mama?" indifferently, _her_ eyes looking down upon her lap. "He is handsome and well-bred." "Oh, he is a Yankee," maliciously. "He is a gentleman." And then they looked at each other and laughed gently, and Madeline held up a little paper-weight of pale pink marble, veined with threads of white, that he had selected and ordered polished for her as a souvenir of the day. From that day it was a clear case of strong mutual attraction. What though they had been differently trained, and their opinions clashed on some points? They came out of wordy controversies firmer friends than ever. There was never-ending interest in their combats, and the lightest jest or banter held a fascination keen as the brightest wit. He called Madeline a narrow-minded, illiberal provincial, for holding such fierce prejudices against the colored people, and she retorted that the negro had become a sentiment to the North, and that if they, the Yankees, would give some of their attention and pity to the poor white people crowding their large cities, the South would solve its own great problem. Sometimes they parted in anger; but it was short-lived, for love drew them with irresistible force, and if they disagreed on a few questions, how many hopes, thoughts, and desires they had in common! what taste and sympathy! Mrs. Capelle looked on, sighed, and smiled, but waited in silence for Madeline’s confidence. And one evening she came in, knelt at her mother’s feet, put her arms around her, and pressed her flushed, tremulous, radiant face against her bosom. Mrs. Capelle flushed and trembled herself, and gathered that proud young head closer to her heart. "You have promised to marry him," she said in a whisper. "He asked me again this evening. I could not put him off," Madeline confessed, also in a whisper. "Coquette! Did you want to put him off?" "N—no." "Oh, oh! he is a Yankee." "I love him." "He may take you away to his hard, his cold New England." "We are to live here with you." "Without consulting me? Fie! what aggressive children!" "You are glad, mama. Why are you so glad I’m to be married?" "I am longing to see you safe, my darling," dropping her teasing tone, and speaking with sudden agitation. "Am I not safe with you?" lifting her head, and looking tenderly into the delicate face above her. "But I am not strong, sweet, and I may be called suddenly from you some day, and it is not good for girls to be alone. It will be comforting to leave you in such hands. He is noble, he is good, and will love you faithfully. Ah, Madeline, he is strong and firm; he will rule my wilful girl."