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Dixon, Thomas, 1864-1946

"The Southerner A Romance of the Real Lincoln"

I promised Mrs. Lincoln to help
her."
"I didn't mind the wait, Miss Betty," he answered soberly. "Come into
the garden--I can talk better there among your flowers--I never mind
waiting for you."
"Why?"
"I've time to dream."
"Before you must wake?" she laughed.
"I'm afraid it's so this time----"
"Why so serious--what's the matter?"
"I'm going to the front."
"So are thousands of brave men, Ned. I've always known you'd go when the
test came."
He bit his lips and was silent. It was hard, but he had to say it:
"I am going to fight for the South, Miss Betty."
The silence was painful. She looked steadily into his dark earnest eyes.
There was something too big and fine in them to be met with anger or
reproach. He was deadly pale and waited breathlessly for her to speak.
"I'm sorry," she breathed softly.
"You know that it costs me something to say this to you," he stammered.
"Yes, I know----"
"But it must be. It's a question of principle--a question that cuts to
the bone of a fellow's life and character. A man must be true to what he
believes to be right, mustn't he?"
His voice was tender, wistful, pleading. The sweet, young face upturned
to his caught his mood:
"Yes, Ned."
"I couldn't be a real man and do less, could I?"
"No--but I'm sorry"--she paused and suddenly asked, "Your brother agrees
with you?"
Ned frowned: "Why do you ask that question?"
"Because I was sure that he was on our side----"
"Is that all?"
"And I've always supposed he was a sort of guardian----"
"Only because he has always been my big brother and I've loved and
admired him very much.


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