st. john had come up the garden path quickly, and had failed to notice harry powell, although he had caught sight of a well-known dress which marion wore.
now, when he saw the young surgeon, his face fell, for he had calculated upon seeing marion alone.
"excuse me, marion," he said, "i did not know you had company."
"come in, st. john," replied the girl. "do you not recognize my visitor? it is dr. harry powell."
"oh!" st. john was much surprised, and showed it. "how do you do?" he continued stiffly.
"shake hands. you are cousins," went on marion, not liking the dark look which had come to st. john's face.
"excuse me, but i cannot shake hands with one who wears that uniform," returned the spendthrift, drawing back. "i am surprised, marion, to see you upon such intimate terms with your country's foe."
marion's face flushed, and she bit her lip. harry powell set his teeth and then smiled coldly.
"i perceive you wear no uniform at all, st. john," he remarked pointedly.
"no. my duty to my mother keeps me at home," stammered st. john.
"if all who have mothers were to remain at home we would have few soldiers."
"it is a very great trial to me to have to remain at home," went on the hypocrite smoothly. "yet, to my notion, a man is far better off at home than to be wearing a yankee uniform."
"that is for each man to decide for himself."
st. john turned to marion.
"does your mother know that dr. powell is here?"
"yes; she has invited him to dine with us."
"to dine with you!" exclaimed the spendthrift.
"yes, what is wrong about that?" questioned harry powell.
"i thought she was a true and loyal southern woman."
"i do not follow you," answered harry powell hotly. "the ties of blood count for something, even in war times."
"they do not count for as much as that—to me," said st. john sourly.
"then i presume you will not care to stop and dine with us, st. john," put in marion.
"thank you, no. i will remain another time—when it is more agreeable, marion."
so speaking, st. john bowed low to the girl, nodded slightly to the young surgeon, and hurried from the place.
marion looked at harry powell with a face that was crimson.
"forget the insult, harry!" she cried.
"it is not your fault, marion. but what a cad st. john is! i never liked him much. i can easily understand how jack cannot get along with him."
"i wish he would join the army. it might make a man of him."
"i believe he is too cowardly to don a uniform. but come, let us go into the house, or your mother will wonder what is keeping us."
when they entered the homestead they found colonel stanton taking his leave. the colonel was perfectly willing to allow the young surgeon to remain.
"have a good time, powell," he said. "and try to convince your worthy relatives that all yankees are not the monsters they are painted."
"he's a downright good fellow!" cried jack, when the federal officer had departed. "i don't wonder that you like him, harry."
"he is a very nice man," said marion, and to this mrs. ruthven nodded affirmatively.
dinner was almost ready to be served, and while they were waiting marion noticed that the young surgeon was studying jack's face closely.
"what makes you look at jack so?" she questioned, in a low voice, so that our hero might not hear.
"i was studying his face," was the slow reply.
"studying his face?"
"yes. marion, did you notice how colonel stanton looks?"
"i did, although not very closely."
"it seems to me that jack bears a wonderful resemblance to the colonel."
"now you speak of it, i must say you are right," answered marion thoughtfully. and then, after another pause, she continued: "is the colonel a married man?"
"i hardly think so. i have never heard him speak of a wife or children."
"then it is likely that he is a bachelor." and there, for the time being, the subject was dropped.
despite the fact that the house was surrounded by federal troops and that a portion of the homestead was being used as a hospital, the dinner passed off in a far from unpleasant manner. mrs. ruthven was glad to meet her nephew once more, and made him tell the story of his service in detail. not only the lady of the house, but also marion and jack, hung upon the young surgeon's words, and jack's eyes glistened when he heard about the hard fighting which had been witnessed.
"oh, how i wish i had been there! i would have helped to beat the yankee troops back!" he cried.
"you're a born soldier, jack!" answered harry powell. "and i must say i like you the better for it. i can't stand such stay-at-homes as st. john."
"oh, st. john is a regular—a regular——"
"hush, jack!" interrupted mrs. ruthven reprovingly. "he says his mother needs him at home."
"and our country needs him at the front," said marion.
"we don't need cowards," finished jack. "harry, you don't have cowards in your ranks, do you?"
"i am afraid all armies have more or less cowards in the ranks," laughed the young surgeon. "some fellows would never make soldiers if they remained in the service a hundred years. human nature is human nature the world over, you know."
"i wonder if dr. mackey is a brave man," muttered jack, but nobody paid attention to this question.
the repast over, harry powell took his leave, but promised to come again, if possible, before leaving the vicinity. marion saw him go with genuine regret, and blushed painfully when, on watching him hurry down the road, he suddenly turned and waved his hand toward her.
"dear, good cousin harry," she murmured. "how different from st. john!"
two days passed and nothing of importance occurred to disturb the ruthven homestead. on the second day st. john called to see marion, but she excused herself by saying she had a headache, which was true, although the ache was not as severe as it might have been.
as he was leaving the place st. john ran up against jack, who had been down to the outskirts of the federal encampment, watching the soldiers drill.
"hullo, where have you been?" said the spendthrift carelessly.
"been down watching the yankees drill," answered jack.
"it seems to me you take an awful interest in those dirty yankees," retorted st. john, with a sneer.
"i take an interest in all soldiers."
"then why don't you join them, and evince your interest in some practical way?"
"i'd join our troops quick enough, if i was older. i'd be ashamed to stay at home and suck my thumb."
jack looked at st. john steadily as he spoke, and this threw the spendthrift into a rage.
"do you mean to insult me by that?" he roared.
"if the shoe fits you can wear it."
"i'll knock you down for the insult."
"i don't think you will."
"why not?"
"perhaps you are not able, that's why."
"pooh! do you think you can stand up against me?"
"perhaps i can. don't forget our encounter on the road."
"you took a mean advantage of me. i've a good mind to thrash you right here."
"you may try it on if you wish, st. john," and so speaking jack began to throw off his coat.
"will you take back what you said?"
"what did i say?"
"said i was a coward for not becoming a soldier—or about the same thing."
"i won't take back what i think is true."
"so you dare to say i am a coward?" howled the spendthrift.
"if you want it in plain words, i do dare to say it, and furthermore, it is true, and you know it. your plea that you must remain at home is all a sham. when the yankees came this way you were all ready to run for your life at the first sign of real danger. you never thought of your mother at all."
"ha! who told you that?"
"never mind; i found it out, and that's enough."
"i—i was suffering from an extremely severe toothache, and hardly knew what i was doing that day."
"i don't believe it."
"you young rascal! you are growing more impudent every day."
"i am not a rascal."
"you are, and an upstart in the bargain. i heard at the village that some confederate surgeon claims you as his son. is that true?"
"if it is, it is his business and mine."
"well, if you are his son, why don't you get out of here?"
"i shall not go as long as mrs. ruthven wishes me to remain."
"does she want you to stay?"
"yes."
"and marion wants you to?"
"yes."
"it is strange. but if i were you i wouldn't stay where i had no right to stay," went on st. john insinuatingly.
"but i have a right here."
"indeed!"
"yes. the late colonel ruthven adopted me, and i am his son by law."
"bah! that will count for nothing if this confederate surgeon can prove you belong to him."
"well, he'll have to prove it first."
"of course you won't get out of this nest until you are pushed out," blustered st. john. "it's too much of a soft thing for you. you ought to be made to earn your own living."
this remark made jack's face grow crimson, and, striding up to st. john, he clenched his fists, at which the young man promptly retreated.
"i am perfectly willing to work whenever called upon to do so," said our hero. "but it is not for you to say what i shall do, remember that. i know why you wish to get me out of here."
"do you, indeed!"
"i do, indeed, st. john ruthven. you want to get hold of some of mrs. ruthven's property. if i was out of the way, you think she might leave it all to marion and to you."
"well, i have more of a right to it than you, if it comes to that."
"but marion has the best right, and i hope every dollar of it goes to her."
"well, that aint here or there. are you going with your father or not?"
"he must prove that he is my father first."
"you won't take his word?"
"no."
"why?"
"because i do not like the man," and our hero's face filled with sudden bitterness. what if dr. mackey should prove to be his parent, after all? how st. john would rejoice in his discomfiture!
"i suppose this dr. mackey is a very common sort of man," continued the spendthrift, in an endeavor to add to our hero's misery.
"what do you know about him?"
"nothing but what i heard at the village."
"is he down there now?"
"of course not. he went with our troops."
jack drew a sigh of relief. it was likely that the doctor would not show himself in the neighborhood for some time to come, probably not until the federal troops had departed.
"i am going to talk to my aunt of this," said st. john suddenly, and, without another word to jack, turned his steps toward the plantation home.
