d bore a hole in Mrs. Rodman's head,
you couldn't make her believe anybody would smile at Her.

She was Mrs. General Rodman, born Mason, and the best blood in Virginia
was in her veins. Also in her father's, as she put on his tombstone.

Outside of Virginia she didn't think anybody was really anything. Of
course, she knew there were other states where things were done that
made money, but she'd just wave her hand if you mentioned them.

As for a Yankee! I wouldn't like to put in words what she does think of
a Yankee.

She lost a husband and two brothers and a father and four nephews and an
uncle in the war; and all her money; and her house had to be sold; and
her baby died before its father saw it; and, of course, that makes a
difference. It makes a Yankee real personal.

But Miss Katherine don't feel that way about Yankees. Each of her
brothers married one, and she don't seem to mind.

Miss Katherine went to the ball, too. She gave in, after all, and went.

I wish you could have seen her when she was dressed and all ready to go.
She had on a long, white satin dress, low neck and short sleeves, with
little trimming and no jewelry. And she looked so tall and beautiful,
and so something I didn't have a name for, that I was afraid, and my
heart beat so thick and fast I thought she'd hear.

I hated it. Hated that satin dress, and the places where she wore it
when away from the Asylum; and I sat up in bed, for lying down it was
hard to breathe.

Presently she turned from the fire where she had been standing, looking
in, and came toward me and kissed me good-night.

In her face was something I had never seen before--something so quiet
and proud that I couldn't sleep for a long time after she went away.

It wasn't just the same as the remembrance look I had seen several times
before, when she forgot she wasn't by herself. It was prouder than that,
and it meant something that didn't get better--just worse.

What was it? If it's a man, who is he? He must be living, for it isn't
the look that means something is dead. It means something that won't
die, but is never, never going to be told.

XI

FINDING OUT

This world is a hard place to live in. I wish somebody would tell me
what we are born for anyway, and what's the use of living.

There are so many things that hurt, and you get so mixed up trying to
understand, that if you don't keep busy you'll spend your life guessing
at a puzzle that hasn't any ans