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Updated: May 12, 2025
"I have honoured little else in the world," he said. They looked at one another for a moment; then her quick smile broke out. "I have an album. There are some Paiges, Ormonds, and Berkleys in it " Ailsa came forward slowly. "Shall I look for it, Celia?" "No, Honey-bell."
She arrived late; the streets were continually blocked by departing troops, and the omnibus took a circuitous course to the ferry, going by way of Fourth Avenue and the Bowery. "Honey-bee! O Honey-bell!" whispered her sister-in-law, taking Ailsa into her arms, "I could have behaved myse'f better if Curt were on the side of God and Justice!
"Two congresses assembled," said Ailsa calmly, "and the debates will be at long range " "By magnetic telegraph if you wish, Honey-bell," conceded Celia hastily. "Oh, we must not begin disputin' about matters that nobody can possibly he'p. It will all come right; you know it will, don't you, Curt?" "Yes, I know it, somehow."
Then: "Honey-bell," she said tranquilly, "if we are bitter, try to remember that we are a nation in pain." "A nation!" "Dear, we have always been that only the No'th has just found it out. Charleston is telling her now. God give that our cannon need not repeat it." "But, Celia, the cannon can't! The same flag belongs to us both." "Not when it flies over Sumter, Honey-bird."
Celia Craig looked up tranquilly. "Has anybody darned Paige's stockings?" "No, she hasn't, Honey-bell. Paige and Marye must keep their stockings da'ned. I never could do anything fo' myse'f, and I won't have my daughters brought up he'pless." Ailsa glanced humorously across at her sister-in-law. "You sweet thing," she said, "you can do anything, and you know it!"
Gas burned low in the hall globes; when he turned it off a fainter light from above guided them. "Celia, is that you?" she called gently, "Hush; go to bed, Honey-bell. Everybody is asleep. How pale you are, Curt dearest dearest " The rear room was Ailsa's; she walked into it and dropped down on the bed in the darkness.
Dizzy, burning hot, half blinded, she felt herself swung out of space onto the earth again, through a glare of brightness in which Celia's face seemed to be framed, edged with infernal light. . . . And another face, Camilla's, was there in the confusing brilliancy; and she reeled a little, embraced, held hot and close; and in her dulled ears drummed Celia's voice, murmuring, pitying, complaining, adoring: "Honey-bell Oh, my little Honey-bud!
Stephen looked up angrily, made as though to speak, but a deep flush settled to the roots of his hair and he remained silent. "Fort Sumter has surrendered," said her brother-in-law quietly. Celia whispered: "Take your seat now, Honey-bell; your breakfast is getting cold."
"Of co'se, Honey-bell. He is a Berkley. He should have paid his respects to us long ago." "It was for him to mention the relationship when I met him. He did not speak of it, Celia." "No, it was fo' you to speak of it first," said Celia Craig gently. "But you did not know that." "Why?" "There are reasons, Honey-bud." "What reasons?"
I'm just afraid some pretty minx " She laughed and added: "But I won't care if she's a rebel minx." "Celia! . . . And I I didn't think you liked that word." "What word, Honey-bell?" very demurely. "Rebel!" "Why, I reckon George Washington wore that title without reproach. It's a ve'y good title rebel," she added serenely. "I admire it enough to wear it myse'f." Quarters were found for Mrs. Craig.
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