was pro-slavery from that time; I was then sixteen,
and had always hated it, and what with my fears of snakes, and my
dislike of the black servants, whom I thought either inefficient or
impertinent, and my unconquerable liking for freedom, I was not so
fascinated. Edward Mayne himself did not like a planter's life, and he
thought slavery an evil, but an evil inherited and past curing. He
argued that the disease was not mortal and endurable, and that it would
kill the country to use the knife. His youngest sister and I were the
only two who ever discussed the subject; she talked a great deal of
nonsense, and probably I did, too; and as she always lost her temper, I
thought it wiser to let the subject drop, especially as I did not think
about it a great deal, and it annoyed Edward to have any coolness
between Georgy and me, and he himself never discussed the topic. We were
both very young and very happy, too young and thoughtless to care much
for any great question, so we sang our little song of happiness, and its
music filled our ears until it was no longer possible not to hear the
tumult of the world without.

The first day of January was our last day of perfect peace. Those who
had not thought of the question before had now to answer what part they
meant to take. People discussed less what States would secede, and more
what they would themselves do, and many who are now most firm on one
side or the other were then agitated by doubt and indecision. Events did
not tarry for individual minds. We all know the story now; I need not
repeat it. Still my future seemed unchanged, and I went to New York the
third of January to order my wedding clothes, but I stayed only three or
four days; I was restless for the continued excitement of Washington.
The day I came back Mississippi seceded, and with it went Mr. Davis. I
heard him make that farewell speech which so few listened to unmoved,
and at which I cried bitterly. I went to say good by to him, though I
could not say God speed, for already I was beginning to know that I had
principles, and which side they were on. As we parted, he said, in that
courteous way that has made so many bow at his shrine:

'We shall have you in the South very soon, Miss Laura,' and I did not
say no; but the mist lifted suddenly before my eyes, and I saw the rock
on which my life was to split, and that no striving against the stream
would avail me aught. Still I said nothing, and the days flew swiftly