of course; it's always been grandfather. He
says it's spiritual prostitution, whatever he means by that, taking
money for praising the Lord in an alien faith." She laughed in an
off-hand way. "No, I'll be honest, I'd have to be sooner or later with
you, anyhow, I hate it--not the work and rehearsals so much, but the
being patronized. When some of those women stop me, with the air of
doing the gracious thing, to tell me they have enjoyed my singing, oh,
I could--" Again she laughed, but her cheeks were blazing. Then she
leaned over and fingered some of the girlish fineries strewing the
bed. "I hate it at home, too, when it comes to being honest about
things--six of us, with grandfather and Aunt Carrie making eight, in
that little house!"

Later, Alexina chanced to refer to Major Rathbone. She spoke
enthusiastically, for she either liked people or she did not like
them. "Hadn't you heard about him?" asked Emily in surprise. "He met
Miss Harriet two years ago, and he's been coming ever since. It's
funny, too, that he should. He's _the_ Major Rathbone, you know--"

But Alexina looked unenlightened.

"Why," said Emily, "the Major Rathbone who was the Confederate
guerrilla--the one who captured and burned a train-load of stuff your
grandfather and Mr. Austen had contracted to deliver for the
government. I've heard people tell about it a dozen different ways
since he's been coming to see Miss Harriet. Anyway, however it was,
the government at the time put a price on his head and your
grandfather and Mr. Austen doubled it. And now they say he's in love
with Miss Harriet!"

In love! With Aunt Harriet! Alexina grew hot. Aunt Harriet! She felt
strange and queer. But Emily was saying more. "Mr. Blair and Major
Rathbone aren't friends even yet; I was here to supper with Miss
Harriet one evening last winter, and Mr. Blair was furious over an
editorial by Major Rathbone in the paper that day about some political
appointments from Washington. Mr. Blair had had something to do with
them, had been consulted about them from Washington, it seems. Major
Rathbone's a Catholic, too."

It rushed upon Alexina that she had spoken to the Major of a family
discussion over his editorials.

Emily stayed until dusk. As Alexina went down to the door with her,
they met Uncle Austen just coming in. He stopped, shook hands, and
asked how matters were in the choir.

As Emily ran down the steps he addressed himself to his niece. "A
praiseworthy