The Essential Winston Churchill Collection. Winston Churchill
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call you Miss Jinny ef you'll call me Mistah Johnson. Mistah Johnson. You aint gwinter forget? Mistah Johnson."
"I'll remember," she said. "Ned," she demanded suddenly, "would you like to be free?"
The negro started.
"Why you ax me dat, Jinny?"
"Mr. Benbow's Hester is free," she said.
"Who done freed her?"
Miss Virginia flushed. "A detestable young Yankee, who has come out here to meddle with what doesn't concern him. I wanted Hester, Ned. And you should have married her, if you behaved yourself."
Ned laughed uneasily.
"I reckon I'se too ol' fo' Heste'." And added with privileged impudence, "There ain't no cause why I can't marry her now."
Virginia suddenly leaped to the ground without his assistance.
"That's enough, Ned," she said, and started toward the house.
"Jinny! Miss Jinny!" The call was plaintive.
"Well, what?"
"Miss Jinny, I seed that than young gemman. Lan' sakes, he ain' look like er Yankee."
"Ned," said Virginia, sternly, "do you want to go back to cooking?"
He quailed. "Oh, no'm--Lan' sakes, no'm. I didn't mean nuthin'."
She turned, frowned, and bit her lip. Around the corner of the veranda she ran into her cousin. He, too, was booted and spurred. He reached out, boyishly, to catch her in his arms. But she drew back from his grasp.
"Why, Jinny," he cried, "what's the matter?"
"Nothing, Max." She often called him so, his middle name being Maxwell. "But you have no right to do that."
"To do what?" said Clarence, making a face.
"You know," answered Virginia, curtly. "Where's Aunt Lillian?"
"Why haven't I the right?" he asked, ignoring the inquiry.
"Because you have not, unless I choose. And I don't choose."
"Are you angry with me still? It wasn't my fault. Uncle Comyn made me come away. You should have had the girl, Jinny, if it took my fortune."
"You have been drinking this morning, Max," said Virginia.
"Only a julep or so," he replied apologetically. "I rode over to the race track to see the new trotter. I've called him Halcyon, Jinny," he continued, with enthusiasm. "And he'll win the handicap sure."
She sat down on the veranda steps, with her knees crossed and her chin resting on her hands. The air was heavy with the perfume of the grapes and the smell of late flowers from the sunken garden near by. A blue haze hung over the Illinois shore.
"Max, you promised me you wouldn't drink so much."
"And I haven't been, Jinny, 'pon my word," he replied. "But I met old Sparks at the Tavern, and he started to talk about the horses, and--and he insisted."
"And you hadn't the strength of character," she said, scornfully, "to refuse."
"Pshaw, Jinny, a gentleman must be a gentleman. I'm no Yankee."
For a space Virginia answered nothing. Then she said, without changing her position:
"If you were, you might be worth something."
"Virginia!"
She did not reply, but sat gazing toward the water. He began to pace the veranda, fiercely.
"Look here, Jinny," he cried, pausing in front of her. "There are some things you can't say to me, even in jest."
Virginia rose, flicked her riding-whip, and started down the steps.
"Don't be a fool, Max," she said.
He followed her, bewildered. She skirted the garden, passed the orchard, and finally reached a summer house perched on a knoll at the edge of the wood. Then she seated herself on a bench, silently. He took a place on the opposite side, with his feet stretched out, dejectedly.
"I'm tired trying to please you," he said. "I have been a fool. You don't care that for me. It was all right when I was younger, when there was no one else to take you riding, and jump off the barn for your amusement, Miss. Now you have Tom Catherwood and Jack Brinsmade and the Russell boys running after you, it's different. I reckon I'll go to Kansas. There are Yankees to shoot in Kansas."
He did not see her smile as he sat staring at his feet.
"Max," said she, all at once, "why don't you settle down to something? Why don't you work?"
Young Mr. Colfax's arm swept around in a circle.
"There are twelve hundred acres to look after here, and a few niggers. That's enough for a gentleman."
"Pooh!" exclaimed his cousin, "this isn't a cotton plantation. Aunt Lillian doesn't farm for money. If she did, you would have to check your extravagances mighty quick, sir."
"I look after Pompey's reports, I do as much work as my ancestors," answered Clarence, hotly.
"Ah, that is the trouble," said Virginia.
"What do you mean?" her cousin demanded.
"We have been gentlemen too long," said Virginia.
The boy straightened up and rose. The pride and wilfulness of generations was indeed in his handsome face. And something else went with it. Around the mouth a grave tinge of indulgence.
"What has your life been?" she went on, speaking rapidly. "A mixture of gamecocks and ponies and race horses and billiards, and idleness at the Virginia Springs, and fighting with other boys. What do you know? You wouldn't go to college. You wouldn't study law. You can't write a decent letter. You don't know anything about the history of your country. What can you do--?"
"I can ride and fight," he said. "I can go to New Orleans to-morrow to join Walker's Nicaragua expedition. We've got to beat the Yankees,--they'll have Kansas away from us before we know it."
Virginia's eye flashed appreciation.
"Do you remember, Jinny," he cried, "one day long ago when those Dutch ruffians were teasing you and Anne on the road, and Bert Russell and Jack and I came along? We whipped 'em, Jinny. And my eye was closed. And you were bathing it here, and one of my buttons was gone. And you counted the rest."
"Rich man, poor man, beggarman, thief, doctor, lawyer, merchant, chief," she recited, laughing. She crossed over and sat beside him, and her tone changed. "Max, can't you understand? It isn't that. Max, if you would only work at something. That is why the Yankees beat us. If you would learn to weld iron, or to build bridges, or railroads. Or if you would learn business, and go to work in Pa's store."
"You do not care for me as I am?"
"I knew that you did not understand," she answered passionately. "It is because I care for you that I wish to make you great. You care too much for a good time, for horses, Max. You love the South, but you think too little how she is to be saved. If war is to come, we shall want men like that Captain Robert Lee who was here. A man who can turn the forces of the