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one and not worthy to be called a
Southerner!”
     
    She heard her own words with dismay, but as
before when she had spoken her mind, she could not regret it. She
wanted to know exactly where he stood.
     
    He came to stand before her. “Believe it or
not, I’m just as southern as you are, my dear Mrs. Kelly, and just
as proud to be called one. Do you mind if I sit down?”
     
    She moved her skirt to make room for him.
Though she was not cold, she drew her shawl more securely over her
shoulders, then tucked his handkerchief into the sash at her
waist.
     
    Clayton sat next to her, the sleeve of his
coat lightly brushing her arm as he settled himself on the hard
wooden bench. “If you’ll permit me, I will try to explain my
feelings, which may have seemed to you rather ambiguous. You see, I
was present in the Senate chamber, in the reporters’ gallery, last
year when those famous speeches were made. The place was packed
with spectators and yet there was no noise, only a brooding
silence, until the men began to speak.
    “One by one the senators renounced their
allegiance to the United States. One by one, they proclaimed their
state’s withdrawal from the Union. Far from being a frenzy as has
generally been believed, it was the most sorrowful scene I have
ever witnessed.
     
    “There was no doubt these men loved the
Union, but still they left no doubt that they believed the South
had been wronged. They believed that the federal government
intended to destroy our right to function as independent
states.”
     
    “And what did you believe, sir?”
     
    “Everyone has been wronged in this affair,”
he replied thoughtfully. “This war has been a long time coming, and
I believe it will be a long time before it’s over…even after the
last cannon is fired. I wonder if this country will ever recover
from it.”
     
    “I can now understand your decision to fight
with words rather than arms, Mr. Pierce—I mean, Clayton. You’re
very persuasive. Perhaps if you had been on the Senate floor you
could have made a difference in the outcome.”
     
    He shook his head. “No. The fire-eaters had
done their damage. The situation had so disintegrated that
bloodshed seemed to be the only solution. All we can do now is pray
that Almighty God will get us through it.”
     
    “What do you mean…about fire-eaters?”
     
    “I mean the men who got us into this war,
from the signing of the Declaration of Independence on down to the
present, men from both North and South struggling for control,
yelling about slavery but offering no solution, yelling about
states’ rights and secession without examining all the
alternatives. They made loyalty to the Union mean disloyalty to our
own state, leaving us with no choice but to fight.”
     
    “That’s just how our General Lee felt,” she
said softly, “when they offered him field command of the United
States Army. We’ve all heard how difficult it was for him to resign
his commission. But his loyalty was to Virginia.”
     
    Clayton nodded. “His home, his children, his
heritage. How can any of us be blamed for wanting to defend those
things? And yet there’s more to it than that, more than will ever
be written in the history books—”
     
    He stopped abruptly and she said, “Do go
on.”
     
    But he stood up again, saying in a lighter
tone, “Forgive me for waxing eloquent, my dear Mrs. Kelly. Your
obvious devotion to the cause inspired me. May I prove my gallant
nature by forgiving your insinuations and asking you to dance?”
     
    Catherine became aware of the music floating
out upon the still night, accompanied by the sounds of swishing
skirts and the rhythmic scraping of booted feet. “Oh, I couldn’t,”
she said quickly.
     
    “I’m afraid you’ll have to,” he replied. “Or
it will be difficult to forget how greatly you have offended
me.”
     
    She looked into his eyes and saw that he was
joking. Her lips curved in a small smile. “I don’t think it would
be