He must speak his love. His heart would burst with its beating. His mate
must know. And she had returned to Richmond with a bitterness against
the North that was something new in the development of her character.
The newspapers of Richmond had published an elaborate account of the
sacking of her father's house, the smashing of its furniture and theft
of its valuables. It had created a profound sensation. There was no
mistaking the passion with which she had told this story.
He had laughed at first over the fun of winning the fairest little rebel
in the South and carrying his bride away a prize of war, against the
combined efforts of his Southern rivals. His love and pride had not
doubted for a moment that her heart would yield to the man she loved no
matter what uniform he might wear at the end of this war.
He couldn't make up his mind to ask her to marry him until she should
know his real name and his true principles.
What would she do if the truth were revealed? His heart fairly stopped
its beating at the thought. The fall of Richmond he now regarded as a
practical certainty. The _Merrimac_ had proven a vain hope to the
Confederacy.
McClellan was landing his magnificent army on the Peninsula and
preparing to sweep all before him.
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