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Updated: June 20, 2025
Richard Marye, who plucked a glass of champagne from a beckoned lackey, and answered: "Whoever conceived a Canning to be an anchorite?... My dear, why are you so severe with these very excellent and worthy people?" "Is it severe," said the lady, "to refuse to be cozened by gay lips and dramatic hair?" "Aspiration," mused her elderly friend, sipping comfortably, "is the mainspring of progress.
Slender, upright, transfigured with a flushed and girlish beauty wholly strange to them, she moved restlessly back and forth across the room, a slim, lovely, militant figure all aglow with inspiration, all aquiver with emotion too long and loyally suppressed. Paige and Marye, astonished, watched her without a word.
"I would not use that wicked flag to protect myse'f," she said quietly "nor to save this house, either, Curt. It's only fo' you and Phil that I care what happens to anything now " "Then go North, you bad little rebel!" whispered her husband, drawing her into his arms. "Paige and Marye have been deserted long enough; and you've seen sufficient of this war plenty to last your lifetime "
"As fo' you, Paige, you are certainly a ve'y rare kind of Honey-bird, and I reckon Mr. Ba'num will sho'ly catch you some day fo' his museum. Who ever heard of a shif'less Yankee girl except you and Marye?" "O mother, how can we mend everything we tear? It's heartless to ask us!" "You don't have to try to mend ev'ything. Fo' example, there's Jimmy Lent's heart "
Marye; and, during the battle, which had now continued four days, she had been seeking shelter from the enemy's shells in the cellar of her house. She had come to get a lock of Stuart's hair for his mother, and her presence, now added to that of our ambulance driver, as Minor read the Episcopal burial service, made the occasion painfully solemn.
They are back from their honeymoon, and are planning to offer their services to the great central hospital at Philadelphia. "Dear, your letter breaking the news to me that Marye Mead was burned when the cavalry burned Edmund Ruffin's house was no news to me. I saw it on fire. But, Philip, there was a fiercer flame consuming me than ever swept that house.
There was, for instance, Miss Marye of the black silk counter, whose father had belonged to Stuart's cavalry and had fallen at Yellow Tavern; there was Miss Meason of the glove counter, and there was Mrs. Burwell Smith of the ribbon counter for, though she had married beneath her, it was impossible to forget that she was a direct descendant of Colonel Micajah Burwell, of Crow's Nest Plantation.
The younger daughters of the house, Paige and Marye, strolled past, bareheaded, arms linked, in company with Camilla and Jimmy Lent. "O dad!" called out Paige softly, "Jim says that Major Anderson is to be reinforced at once. There was a bulletin this evening." "I am very glad to hear it, sweetheart," said her father, smiling through his eye-glasses.
"I came over so you could see me in my uniform," he explained; "and I'm going back right away to see mother and Paige and Marye and Camilla." He paused, sandwich suspended, then swallowed what he had been chewing and took another bite, recklessly. "I'm very fond of Camilla," he said condescendingly. "She's very nice about my going the only one who hasn't snivelled.
James Marye taught Washington these 'Rules, has done good service in leading to the discovery of their origin, it cannot be verified, unless the clergyman's descendants have preserved papers in which they can be traced." I have since learned from the family that no such papers exist.
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