the war. While they
shout, I'll be sawing wood. It needed just this shock and humiliation to
bring the North to their senses. Watch them buckle on their armor now in
deadly earnest. The demagogues howled for a battle. They pushed us in
and they got it. Some of the Congressmen who yelled the loudest for a
march straight into Richmond without a pause even to water the horses
got tangled up in that stampede from Bull Run. They thought Jeb Stuart's
cavalry were on them and lost their lunch baskets in the scramble.
They've seen a great light. I'll get all the money I ask Congress for
and all the soldiers we need for any length of time. I've asked for four
hundred million dollars and five hundred thousand men for three years.
I shouldn't be surprised if they voted more. The people will have sense
enough to see that this defeat was exactly what they should have
expected under such conditions."

His spirit was contagious. Betty forgot her shame and fear.

"You're wonderful, Mr. President," the girl cried in rapt tones. "Now I
know that you have come into the kingdom for such a time as this."

"And so have you, my child," he answered reverently. "And so has every
brave woman who loves this Union. That's what I wanted to say to you and
thank you for your example."

Betty left the White House with a new sense of loyal inspiration. She
walked on air unconscious of the pouring rain. She paused before a
throng that blocked the sidewalk.

Some of them were bareheaded, the rain drops splashing in their faces,
apparently unconscious of anything that was happening.

She pushed her way into the crowd. They were looking at the bulletin
board of the _Daily Republican_, reading the first list of the dead and
wounded. Her heart suddenly began to pound. John Vaughan had not
reported his return. He might be lying stark and cold with the rain
beating down on his mangled body. She read each name in the list of the
dead, and drew a sigh of relief. But the last bulletin was not cheering.
It promised additional names for a later edition. Besides, the War
Department might not be relied on for reports of non-combatants. A
newspaper correspondent was not enrolled as a soldier. His death might
remain unrecorded for days.

On a sudden impulse she started to enter the office and ask if he had
returned, stopped, blushed, turned and hurried home with a new fear
mingled with a strange joy beating in her heart.

CHAPTER X

THE AWAKENING