A Little Traitor to the South | Page 4

and his lack of it
in women, for he instantly conceived that her hesitation was due to
some other cause than maidenly incertitude, and that Harry Lacy, of
whom he had grown mightily jealous, was at the bottom of it.
He hated and envied Lacy. More, he despised him for his weaknesses
and their consequences. The two had been great friends once, but a year
or two before the outbreak of the war they had drifted apart.
Sempland did not envy Lacy any talents that he might possess, for he
was quite confident that the only thing he himself lacked had been
opportunity--Fate had not been kind to him, but the war was not yet
over. Consequently when he jumped to the conclusion that Fanny Glen
preferred Lacy, he fell into further error, and made the frightful mistake
of depreciating his rival.
Assuming with masculine inconsistency that the half acceptance she
had given him entitled him to decide her future, he actually referred to
Lacy's well-known habits and bade her have nothing to do with him.
CHAPTER II

SHE HATES THEM BOTH
"You are," he said at last, "a lonely, unprotected young girl. Where you
come from or what you have been doesn't matter to me. I know what
you are. And that is why I love you. You have no father or brother to
advise you. I must do it and I will, much as it pains me. If you won't
take my affection, you must my counsel,"--he called it counsel, but
only an expert could have distinguished it from command--"you do not
know this man Lacy. He is a dissolute, abandoned--"
"Stop!" cried the girl. "To me he is always a gentleman--a hero."
"The man is brave enough, I'll admit. And he has done some fine
things."
"Yes, while other men have escaped dangers by being made prisoners."
By that unkind remark she lost a large part of her advantage.
"As you say," he returned, wincing under her cruel thrust, but persistent,
"but we are not discussing me now, but Lacy."
"Speaking of wickedness, you would better discuss yourself, I think,
than him."
"I will not be put off in this way, Miss Fan--"
"Miss Glen, please," she interrupted, but he paid no attention.
"Lacy is well enough as a soldier. There is much to commend in him.
He has the manner of a gentleman when he wishes to exhibit it, but
nevertheless he is not a fit person to be entrusted with the future of a
lovely, pure, innocent young girl like you."
"Shame! Shame!" cried the girl.
"You may cry 'shame' upon me," he went on calmly, "and I realize, of
course, that I am censurable in speaking thus of my rival."

"You flatter yourself."
"How is that?"
"You are no rival of Major Lacy's."
"No? Well, then, as a friend."
"Of his?"
"Of yours."
"Nor are you a friend of mine."
"Well, then, as an enemy, a fool, anything! I want to tell you that
nothing but unhappiness awaits you if you encourage him. I know him,
I tell you. I know what sort of a man he is. Unstable as water, fickle,
dissipated--"
"I'll hear no more!" cried the girl, passionately, turning her head and
attempting to leave the room.
"Excuse me," said the man, coolly, preventing her by occupying the
doorway. "You shall hear me! And hear this first of all. I am not saying
anything about Major Lacy which is not a matter of public knowledge
and which I have not said to him directly, and which I would not repeat
in his presence."
"You tell me that--"
"You do not believe me?"
"No."
"I beg to assure you, Miss Glen, upon my word of honor--and it has not
been questioned heretofore--that I told him these very things not longer
than half an hour ago. And I informed him that I intended to tell you."
"What did he say?" she asked, her curiosity getting the better of her for

the moment.
"He laughed. Said that the South had a present and pressing need for
such as I," he replied with sturdy honesty, "but that he would take great
pleasure in killing me when the war was over if we were both spared."
"Well, sir, was not that a fine reply?"
"It was. It was a gentleman's answer. I admired him for it and told him
so. At the same time I told him that he must cease his attentions to
you."
"By what right did you dare--" cried the girl, almost choking with
sudden and indignant protest.
"No right. Unless my love for you, with a desire to serve you, greater
than everything save my devotion to that flag yonder, can excuse me."
"And that cannot. Unless love be returned, it entails no rights
whatsoever."