"I asked you about your older brother because I
don't like the idea of you poisoning your beautiful young life with
hatred. Such thoughts kill--they can't bring health and strength, Miss
Jennie."
"Of course," the girl responded tenderly, "you can see things more
calmly. You can't understand how deep the knife has entered our hearts
in the South."
"That's just what I do understand. It's that against which I'm warning
you. This war can't last always you know. There must be a
readjustment--"
"Between the North and South?"
"Of course--"
"Never!"
With sudden emotion she leaped to her feet her little fists clinched.
She stood trembling in silence for a moment and her face paled.
"No, Signor," she went on in cold tones. "There can be no readjustment
of this war. It's to the death now. I confess myself a rebel body and
soul--_Confess_? I glory in it! I'm proud of being one. I thought my
father extravagant at first. Ben Butler has changed my views. The South
can't look back now. It's forward--forward--always forward to death--or
independence!"
She paused overcome with emotion.
"Yes," she went on in quick tones, "I thank God we're two different
tribes! I'm proud of the South and her old-fashioned, out-of-date
chivalry.
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