ee
her eyes shine now, that she liked you and she meant to know you."

"That she meant to know me," I repeated, with a singing heart.

"The ladies were put out, I could see, but they ain't a match for that
scamp Harry, and he's in her. There never lived the general that could
command him, and he'd have been shot for insubordination in '63 if he
hadn't been as good as a whole company to the army. 'I'll fight for the
South and welcome,' he used to say, 'but, by God, sir, I'll fight as I
damn please.' 'Twas the same way about the church, too. Old Dr. Peterson
got after him once about standing, instead of kneeling, during prayers,
and 'I'll pray as I damn please, sir!' responded Harry. Oh, he was a sad
scamp!"

"So his daughter fought for me?" I said. "How did it end?"

"It will end all right when you are president of the Great South Midland
and Atlantic Railroad, and have shipped me to Kingdom Come. They won't
shut their doors in your face, then."

"But she stood up for me?" I asked, and my voice trembled.

"She? Do you mean Miss Matoaca? Well, she granted your good looks and
your virtues, but she regretted that they couldn't ask you to their
house."

"And Miss Mitty?"

"Oh, Miss Mitty assured me that six feet two were as an inch in her
sight, without a grandfather."

"But her niece--Miss Mickleborough?" I had worked delicately up to my
point.

"The girl fought for you--but then she's obliged to fight for
something?--it's Harry in her. That's why, as I said to George at
breakfast, I don't want him to marry her. She's a good girl, and I like
her, but who in the deuce wants to marry a fighting wife? Look at that
fellow mauling his horse, Ben. It makes me sick to see 'em do it, but
it's no business of mine, I reckon."

"It is of mine, General," I replied, for the sight of an ill-treated
animal had made my blood boil since childhood. Before he could answer, I
had jumped over the moving wheel, and had reached the miserable,
sore-backed horse struggling under a load of coal and a big stick.

"Come off and put your shoulder to the wheel, you drunken brute," I
said, as my rage rose in my throat.

"I'll be damned if I will," replied the fellow, and he was about to
begin belabouring again, when I seized him by the collar and swung him
clear to the street.

"I'll be damned if you don't," I retorted.

I was a strong man, and when my passions were roused, the thought of my
own strength slipped from consciousness.