George Washingtons Last Duel | Page 8

one thing--you ain' thinkin' 'bout givin' me
that ole one for a mistis is you?"
"What old one, fool?" The Major stopped panting. George Washington
denoted the side of his head where Miss Jemima's thin curls nestled.
"Get out of this room. Tell Dilsy to pack your chest, I'll send you off
to-morrow morning."
George Washington blinked with the gravity of a terrapin. It might
have been obtuseness; or it might have been silent but exquisite
enjoyment which lay beneath his black skin.

"George Washington," said the Major almost in a whisper, "what made
you think that?"
It was to George Washington's undying credit that not a gleam flitted
across his ebony countenance as he said solemnly,
"Marse Nat, I ain say I think nuttin--I jis ax you, Is you?--She been
meckin mighty partic'lar quiration 'bout de plantation and how many
niggers we got an' all an' I jis spicionate she got her eye sort o' set on
you an' me, dat's all."
The Major bounced to his feet, and seizing his hat and gloves from the
table, burst out of the room. A minute later he was shouting for his
horse in a voice which might have been heard a mile.

V.
Jeff laid to heart the Major's wisdom; but when it came to acting upon
it the difficulty arose. He often wondered why his tongue became tied
and his throat grew dry when he was in Margaret's presence these days
and even just thought of saying anything serious to her. He had known
Margaret ever since she was a wee bit of a baby, and had often carried
her in his arms when she was a little girl and even after she grew up to
be "right big." He had thought frequently of late that he would be
willing to die if he might but take her in his arms. It was, therefore,
with no little disquietude that he observed what he considered his
friend's growing fancy for her. By the time Lawrence had taken a few
strolls in the garden and a horseback ride or two with her Jeff was
satisfied that he was in love with her, and before a week was out he was
consumed with jealousy. Margaret was not the girl to indulge in
repining on account of her lover's unhappiness. If Jeff had had a
finger-ache, or had a drop of sorrow but fallen in his cup her eyes
would have softened and her face would have shown how fully she felt
with him; but this--this was different. To wring his heart was a part of
the business of her young ladyhood; it was a healthy process from
which would come greater devotion and more loyal constancy. Then, it

was so delightful to make one whom she liked as she did Jeff look so
miserable. Perhaps some time she would reward him--after a long while,
though. Thus, poor Jeff spent many a wretched hour cursing his fate
and cursing Pick Lawrence. He thought he would create a diversion by
paying desperate attention to Margaret's guest; but it resolved itself on
the first opportunity into his opening his heart and confiding all his
woes to her. In doing this he fell into the greatest contradiction,
declaring one moment that no one suspected that he was in love with
Margaret, and the next vowing that she had every reason to know he
adored her, as he had been in love with her all her life. It was one
afternoon in the drawing-room. Rose, with much sapience, assured him
that no woman could have but one reason to know it. Jeff dolefully
inquired what it was.
Rising and walking up to him she said in a mysterious whisper,--.
"Tell her."
Jeff, after insisting that he had been telling her for years, lapsed into a
declaration of helpless perplexity. "How can I tell her more than I have
been telling her all along?" he groaned. Rose said she would show him.
She seated herself on the sofa, spread out her dress and placed him
behind her.
"Now, do as I tell you--no, not so,--so;--now lean over,--put your
arm--no, it is not necessary to touch me," as Jeff, with prompt
apprehension, fell into the scheme, and declared that he was all right in
a rehearsal, and that it was only in the real drama he failed. "Now say 'I
love you.'" Jeff said it. They were in this attitude when the door opened
suddenly and Margaret stood facing them, her large eyes opened wider
than ever. She backed out and shut the door.
Jeff sprang up, his face very red.
Lawyers know that the actions of a man on being charged with a crime
are by no means infallible evidence of his guilt,--but it is hard to satisfy
juries