I hope we are
supposing a very unlikely thing, Miss Randolph."
I hoped so. But that impression of Southern character troubled
me yet. Fighting! I looked at the peaceful hills, feeling as
if indeed "all the foundations of the earth" would be "out of
course."
"What would _you_ do in case it came to fighting?" said my
neighbour. The words startled me out of my meditations.
"I could not do anything."
"I beg your pardon. Your favour — your countenance, would do
much; on one side or the other. You would fight — in effect —
as surely as I should."
I looked up. "Not against you," I said; for I could not bear
to be misunderstood.
There was a strange sparkle in Mr. Thorold's eye; but those
flashes of light came and went so like flashes, that I could
not always tell what they meant. The tone of his voice however
I knew expressed pleasure.
"How comes that?" he said. "You _are_ Southern?"
"Do I look it?" I asked.
"Pardon me — yes."
"How, Mr. Thorold?"
"You must excuse me. I cannot tell you.
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