Emmanuel has great plans for the future. He is profoundly interested in
your movement. He does not believe that the map of Italy has yet been
fixed. It will be quite easy to convince his brilliant, open mind that
the boundaries of this country may be readjusted--"

"I shall be delighted to show you every courtesy within my power, sir,"
Barton responded. "You must go South with us to-morrow and spend a week
at Fairview, our country estate. You must meet my grand old father and
my mother and see the curse of slavery at its worst!"

Barton laughed heartily and slipped his arm persuasively about the
graceful shoulders of his guest.

"I hadn't thought of being so honored, I assure you--"

He paused and looked at Jennie with a timid sort of appeal.

"Come with us--we'll be delighted to have you--"

"I'll enjoy it, I'm sure," he said hesitatingly. "We will reach
Montgomery in time for the meeting of the Convention of Seceding
States?"

"Certainly," Barton replied. "I'm already elected a delegate from my
State. Her secession is but a question of days."

Socola's white, even teeth gleamed in a happy smile.

"I'll go with pleasure, Senator. You leave to-morrow?"

"The ten-twenty train for the South. You'll join our party, of course?"

"Of course."

With a graceful bow he hurried home to complete the final preparations
for his departure. He walked with quick, strong step. And yet as he
approached the door of the little house in the humbler quarter of the
city his gait unconsciously slowed down.

He dreaded this last struggle with his mother. But it must come. He
entered the modestly furnished sitting room and looked at her calm,
sweet face with a sudden sinking. She would be absolutely alone in the
world. And yet no harm could befall her. She was the friend of every
human being who knew her. It was the agony of this parting he dreaded
and the loneliness that would torture her in his absence.

He spoke with forced cheerfulness.

"Well, mater, it's all settled. I leave at ten-twenty to-morrow
morning."

She rose and placed her hands on his shoulders. The tears blinded her.

"How little I thought when I taught your boyish lips to speak the
musical tongue of Italy I was preparing this bitter hour for my soul! I
begged your father to resign his consulship at Genoa and brought you
home to teach you the great lesson--to love your country and reverence
your country's God. And since your father's death the dream of my