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Updated: June 16, 2025
"But Colonel Arran is not a Southerner," observed Ailsa quietly. "You know how all Northerners feel " "It happened befo' you were born, Honey-bud. Even the No'th recognised the code then." "Is that why you dislike Colonel Arran? Because he refused to challenge or be challenged when the law of the land forbade private murder?"
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!
Ailsa laid a pink bow against her hair and glanced at her sister-in-law for approval. "I declare. Honey-bud, you are all rose colour to-day," said Celia Craig, smiling; and, on impulse, unpinned the pink-and-white cameo from her own throat and fastened it to Ailsa's breast. "I reckon I'll slip on a gay gown myse'f," she added mischievously.
"My dear," she said wearily, "that drive from the Chain Bridge to Alexandria has mos'ly killed me. I vow and declare there was never one moment when one wheel was not in a mud hole. All my bones ache, Honey-bud, and I'm cross with talking to so many Yankees, and do you believe me ! that ve'y horrid Stanton creature gave orders that I was to take the oath!" "The oath?" asked Ailsa, amazed.
Yet, I'm Southern enough to choke back eve'y tear and let them go with a smile if they had to go fo' God and the Right! But to see my Curt go this way and my only son crazy to join him Oh, it is ha'd, Honey-bee, ve'y, ve'y ha'd." "Dearest!" "O Honey-bud! Honey-bud!" And the two women mourned, uncomforted. Ailsa remained for three unhappy days in Fort Greene Place, then fled to her own house.
"It is the oath of fealty," said Ailsa in a hushed voice. "It was not necessa'y," said Celia coldly. "My husband is sufficient to keep me harmless. . . . But I know what I feel in my heart, Honey-bud; and so does eve'y Southern woman God help us all. . . . Is that little Miss Lynden going with us?" "Letty? Yes, of course." Celia began to undress.
"There is loads of time for that, Honey-bud," said her sister-in-law, glancing up absently from the note she was writing. "I was merely wondering whether it was necessary at all," observed Ailsa Paige, without interest. But Celia had begun to write again. "I'll ask him," she said in her softly preoccupied voice, "Saturday, I think."
"Oh," said Celia drily, and resumed her mending. "Would you care to meet him, dear?" "I reckon not, Honey-bud." A soldier had found a spray of white jasmine in the woods that afternoon and had brought it to Ailsa. She fastened a cluster in the dull gold masses of her hair, thickly drooping above each ear, glanced at her hot cheeks in the mirror, and, exasperated, went out and down the stairs.
"Honey-bud, darling," she whispered tearfully, "did you know the Lancers are leaving?" Ailsa's eyes flew wide open: "Not his regiment!" "Are there two?" "Yes," said Ailsa, frightened. "That must be the 6th Pennsylvania. . . . Because I think somebody would have told me Colonel Arran " She stared through eyes from which the mist of slumber had entirely cleared away.
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