"Perhaps not.I have a pretty good memory, major; let me quote a few lines from your book.In response to a toast at a banquet given in --Milledgeville, I believe -- you uttered, and intend to have printed, these words:
The Northern man is utterly without sentiment or warmth except in so far as the feelings may be turned to his own commercial profit.He will suffer without resentment any imputation cast upon the honour of himself or his loved ones that does not bear with it the consequence of pecuniary loss.In his charity, he gives with a liberal hand; but it must be heralded with the trumpet and chronicled in brass.
"Do you think that picture is fairer than the one you saw of Colonel Calhoun last night?""The description," said the major frowning, "is -- not without grounds.
Some exag -- latitude must be allowed in public speaking.""And in public acting," replied Hargraves.
"That is not the point," persisted the major, unrelenting."It was a personal caricature.I positively decline to overlook it, sir.""Major Talbot," said Hargraves, with a winning smile, "I wish you would understand me.I want you to know that I never dreamed of insulting you.
In my profession, all life belongs to me.I take what I want, and what Ican, and return it over the footlights.Now, if you will, let's let it go at that.I came in to see you about something else.We've been pretty good friends for some months, and I'm going to take the risk of offending you again.I know you are hard up for money -- never mind how I found out; a boarding house is no place to keep such matters secret -- and Iwant you to let me help you out of the pinch.I've been there often enough myself.I've been getting a fair salary all the season, and I've saved some money.You're welcome to a couple hundred -- or even more --until you get --"
"Stop!" commanded the major, with his arm outstretched."It seems that my book didn't lie, after all.You think your money salve will heal all the hurts of honour.Under no circumstances would I accept a loan from a casual acquaintance; and as to you, sir, I would starve before I would consider your insulting offer of a financial adjustment of the circumstances we have discussed.I beg to repeat my request relative to your quitting the apartment."Hargraves took his departure without another word.He also left the house the same day, moving, as Mrs.Vardeman explained at the supper table, nearer the vicinity of the down-town theatre, where "A Magnolia Flower"was booked for a week's run.
Critical was the situation with Major Talbot and Miss Lydia.There was no one in Washington to whom the major's scruples allowed him to apply for a loan.Miss Lydia wrote a letter to Uncle Ralph, but it was doubtful whether that relative's constricted affairs would permit him to furnish help.The major was forced to make an apologetic address to Mrs.Vardeman regarding the delayed payment for board, referring to "delinquent rentals"and "delayed remittances" in a rather confused strain.
Deliverance came from an entirely unexpected source.
Late one afternoon the door maid came up and announced an old coloured man who wanted to see Major Talbot.The major asked that he be sent up to his study.Soon an old darkey appeared in the doorway, with his hat in hand, bowing, and scraping with one clumsy foot.He was quite decently dressed in a baggy suit of black.His big, coarse shoes shone with a metallic lustre suggestive of stove polish.His bushy wool was gray -- almost white.After middle life, it is difficult to estimate the age of a Negro.This one might have seen as many years as had Major Talbot.
"I be bound you don't know me, Mars' Pendleton," were his first words.
The major rose and came forward at the old, familiar style of address.It was one of the old plantation darkeys without a doubt; but they had been widely scattered, and he could not recall the voice or face.
"I don't believe I do," he said kindly -- "unless you will assist my memory.""Don't you 'member Cindy's Mose, Mars' Pendleton, what 'migrated 'mediately after de war?""Wait a moment," said the major, rubbing his forehead with the tips of his fingers.He loved to recall everything connected with those beloved days."Cindy's Mose," he reflected."You worked among the horses --breaking the colts.Yes, I remember now.After the surrender, you took the name of -- don't prompt me -- Mitchell, and went to the West -- to Nebraska.""Yassir, yassir," -- the old man's face stretched with a delighted grin --"dat's him, dat's it.Newbraska.Dat's me -- Mose Mitchell.Old Uncle Mose Mitchell, dey calls me now.Old mars', your pa, gimme a pah of dem mule colts when I lef' fur to staht me goin' with.You 'member dem colts, Mars' Pendleton?""I don't seem to recall the colts," said the major."You know I was married the first year of the war and living at the old Follinsbee place.
But sit down, sit down, Uncle Mose.I'm glad to see you.I hope you have prospered."Uncle Mose took a chair and laid his hat carefully on the floor beside it.
