quite welcome to). You kin rest here till
evening. Maybe a wagon'll come along and give you a lift, so's you can
get there in time--"

"Get where, ma'am?"

"Why, wherever the battle's going to be!"

"Yaas, yaas," said Steve. "It's surely hard lines when those who kin
fight have to take a back seat 'cause of illness and watch the other
kind go front!" He groaned again and closed his eyes. "I don't suppose
you've got a drop of spirits handy?"

The woman--she was hardly more than a girl--hesitated. Because the most
were heroic, and for the sake of that most, all Confederate soldiers
wore the garland. It was not in this or any year of the war that
Confederate women lightly doubted the entire heroism of the least of
individuals, so that he wore the grey. It was to them, most nobly, most
pathetically, a sacred investiture. Priest without but brute within,
wolf in shepherd's clothing, were to them not more unlooked-for nor
abhorrent than were coward, traitor, or shirk enwrapped in the pall and
purple of the grey. Fine lines came into the forehead of the girl
standing between Steve and the hearth. She remembered suddenly that
James had said there were plenty of scamps in the army and that not
every straggler was lame or ill. Some were plain deserters.

"I haven't got any spirits," she answered. "I did have a little bottle
but I gave it to a sick neighbour. Anyhow, it isn't good for weak
lungs."

Steve looked at her with cunning eyes. "You didn't give it all away," he
thought. "You've got a little hid somewhere. O Gawd! I want a drink so
bad!"

"I was making potato soup for myself," said the girl, "and my father
sent me half a barrel of flour from Harrisonburg and I was baking a
small loaf of bread for to-morrow. It's Sunday. It's done now, and I'll
slice it for you and give you a plate of soup. That's better for you
than--. Where do you think we'll fight to-day?"

"Where?--Oh, anywhere the damned fools strike each other." He stumbled
to the table which she was spreading. She glanced at him. "There's a
basin and a roller towel on the back porch and the pump's handy.
Wouldn't you like to wash your face and hands?"

Steve shook his tousled head. "Naw, I'm so burned the skin would come
off. O Gawd! this soup is good."

"People getting over fevers and lung troubles don't usually burn. They
stay white and peaked even out of doors in July."

"I reckon I ain't that kind. I'll take another plateful. Gawd, what a
pretty ar