United States -- History -- Civil War, 1861-1865 -- Fiction
“Jinny, I was going to speak of this young. Brice. He's a stranger here,
and he comes of a good family, and--and I like him.”
“And you wish me to invite him to my party,” finished Virginia.
The Colonel started. “I reckon you guessed it,” he said.
Virginia remained immovable. She did not answer at once. Then she said:
“Do you think, in bidding against me, that he behaved, like a
gentleman?”
The Colonel blundered.
“Lord, Virginia,” he said, “I thought you told the judge this afternoon
teat it was done out of principle.”
Virginia ignored this. But she bit her lip
“He is like all Yankees, without one bit of consideration for a woman.
He knew I wanted Hester.”
“What makes you imagine that he thought of you at all, my dear?” asked
her father, mildly, “He does not know you.”
This time the Colonel scored certainly. The firelight saved Virginia.
“He overheard our conversation,” she answered.
“I reckon that he wasn't worrying much about us. And besides, he was
trying to save Hester from Jennings.”
“I thought that you said that it was to be my party, Pa,” said Virginia,
irrelevantly.
The Colonel looked thoughtful, then he began to laugh.
“Haven't we enough Black Republican friends?” she asked.
“So you won't have him?” said the Colonel.
“I didn't say that I wouldn't have him,” she answered.
The Colonel rose, and brushed the ashes from his goat.
“By Gum!” he said. “Women beat me.”
CHAPTER X. THE LITTLE HOUSE
When Stephen attempted to thank Judge Whipple for going on Hester's
bond, he merely said, “Tut, tut.”
The Judge rose at six, so his man Shadrach told Stephen. He had his
breakfast at the Planters' House at seven, read the Missouri Democrat,
and returned by eight. Sometimes he would say good morning to Stephen
and Richter, and sometimes he would not. Mr. Whipple was out a great
part of the day, and he had many visitors. He was a very busy man. Like
a great specialist (which he was), he would see only one person at a
time. And Stephen soon discovered that his employer did not discriminate
between age or sex, or importance, or condition of servitude. In short,
Stephen's opinion of Judge Whipple altered very materially before the
end of that first week. He saw poor women and disconsolate men go into
the private room ahead of rich citizens, who seemed content to wait
their turn on the hard wooden chairs against the wall of the main
office. There was one incident in particular, when a well-dressed
gentleman of middle age paced impatiently for two mortal hours after
Shadrach had taken his card into the sanctum. When at last he had been
admitted, Mr. Richter whispered to Stephen his name. It was that of a
big railroad man from the East. The transom let out the true state of
affairs.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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