CHAPTER I.

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KITTY'S CONQUEST.

BY CHARLES KING, U.S.A.,

AUTHOR OF "THE COLONEL'S DAUGHTER."

PHILADELPHIA:

J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY.

1890.

Copyright. 1884, by J. B. LIPPINCOTT & CO.

PREFACE.

The incidents of this little story occurred some twelve years ago, and

it was then that the story was mainly written.

If it meet with half the kindness bestowed upon his later work it will

more than fulfil the hopes of

THE AUTHOR.

February, 1884.

KITTY'S CONQUEST.

CHAPTER I.

It was just after Christmas, and discontentedly enough I had left my

cosy surroundings in New Orleans, to take a business-trip through the

counties on the border-line between Tennessee and northern Mississippi

and Alabama. One sunny afternoon I found myself on the "freight and

passenger" of what was termed "The Great Southern Mail Route." We had

been trundling slowly, sleepily along ever since the conductor's "all

aboard!" after dinner; had met the Mobile Express at Corinth when the

shadows were already lengthening upon the ruddy, barren-looking

landscape, and now, with Iuka just before us, and the warning whistle of

the engine shrieking in our ears with a discordant pertinacity attained

only on our Southern railroads, I took a last glance at the sun just

disappearing behind the distant forest in our wake, drew the last

breath of life, from my cigar, and then, taking advantage of the halt at

the station, strolled back from the dinginess of the smoking-car to more

comfortable quarters in the rear.

There were only three passenger-cars on the train, and, judging from the

scarcity of occupants, one would have been enough. Elbowing my way

through the gaping, lazy swarms of unsavory black humanity on the

platform, and the equally repulsive-looking knots of "poor white trash,"

the invariable features of every country stopping-place south of Mason

and Dixon, I reached the last car, and entering, chose one of a dozen

empty seats, and took a listless look at my fellow-passengers,--six in

all,--and of them, two only worth a second glance.

One, a young, perhaps very young, lady, so girlish, _petite_, and pretty

she looked even after the long day's ride in a sooty car. Her seat was

some little distance from the one into which I had dropped, but that was

because the other party to be depicted was installed within two of her,

and, with that indefinable sense of repulsion which induces all

travellers, strangers to one another, to get as far apart as possible on

entering a car, I had put four seats 'twixt him and me,--and afterwards

wished I hadn't.

It _was_ rude to turn and stare at a young girl,--travelling alone, too,

as she appeared to be. I did it involuntarily the first time, and found

myself repeating the performance again and again, simply because I

couldn't help it,--she looked prettier and prettier every time.

A fair, oval, tiny face; a somewhat supercilious nose, and

not-the-least-so mouth; a mouth, on the contrary, that even though its

pretty lips were closed, gave one the intangible yet positive assurance

of white and regular teeth; eyes whose color I could not see because

their drooping lids were fringed with heavy curving lashes, but which

subsequently turned out to be a soft, dark gray; and hair!--hair that

made one instinctively gasp with admiration, and exclaim (mentally), "If

it's _only_ real!"--hair that rose in heavy golden masses above and

around the diminutive ears, almost hiding them from view, and fell in

braids (not braids either, because it _wasn't_ braided) and rolls--only

that sounds breakfasty--and masses again,--it must do for both,--heavy

golden masses and rolls and waves and straggling offshoots and

disorderly delightfulness all down the little lady's neck, and, landing

in a lump on the back of the seat, seemed to come surging up to the top

again, ready for another tumble.

It looked as though it hadn't been "fixed" since the day before, and yet

as though it would be a shame to touch it; and was surmounted, "sat

upon," one might say, by the jauntiest of little travelling hats of some

dark material (don't expect a bachelor, and an elderly one at that, to

be explicit on such a point), this in turn being topped by the pertest

little mite of a feather sticking bolt upright from a labyrinth of

beads, bows, and buckles at the side.

More of this divinity was not to be viewed from my post of observation,

as all below the fragile white throat with its dainty collar and the

handsome fur "boa," thrown loosely back on account of the warmth of the

car, was undergoing complete occultation by the seats in front; yet

enough was visible to impress one with a longing to become acquainted

with the diminutive entirety, and to convey an idea of cultivation and

refinement somewhat unexpected on that particular train, and in that

utterly unlovely section of the country.

Naturally I wondered who she was; where she was going; how it happened

that she, so young, so innocent, so be-petted and be-spoilt in

appearance, should be journeying alone through the thinly settled

counties of upper Mississippi. Had she been a "through" passenger, she

would have taken the express, not this grimy, stop-at-every-shanty,

slow-going old train on which we were creeping eastward.

In fact, the more I peeped, the more I marvelled; and I found myself

almost unconsciously inaugurating a detective movement with a view to

ascertaining her identity.

All this time mademoiselle was apparently serenely unconscious of my

scrutiny and deeply absorbed in some object--a book, probably--in her

lap. A stylish Russia-leather satchel was hanging among the hooks above

her head,--evidently her property,--and those probably, too, were her

initials in monogram, stamped in gilt upon the flap, too far off for my

fading eyes to distinguish, yet tantalizingly near.

Now I'm a lawyer, and as such claim an indisputable right to exercise

the otherwise feminine prerogative of yielding to curiosity. It's our

business to be curious; not with the sordid views and mercenary intents

of Templeton Jitt; but rather as Dickens's "Bar" was curious,--affably,

apologetically, professionally curious. In fact, as "Bar" himself said,

"we lawyers _are_ curious," and take the same lively interest in the

affairs of our fellow-men (and women) as maiden aunts are popularly

believed to exercise in the case of a pretty niece with a dozen beaux,

or a mother-in-law in the daily occupations of the happy husband of her

eldest daughter. Why need I apologize further? I left my seat;

zig-zagged down the aisle; took a drink of water which I didn't want,

and, returning, the long look at the monogram which I _did_.

There they were, two gracefully intertwining letters; a "C" and a "K."

Now was it C. K. or K. C.? If C. K., what did it stand for?

I thought of all manner of names as I regained my seat; some pretty,

some tragic, some commonplace, none satisfactory. Then I concluded to

begin over; put the cart before the horse, and try K. C.

Now, it's ridiculous enough to confess to it, but Ku-Klux was the first

thing I thought of; K. C. didn't stand for it at all, but Ku-Klux

_would_ force itself upon my imagination. Well, everything _was_ Ku-Klux

just then. Congress was full of them; so was the South;--Ku-Klux had

brought me up there; in fact I had spent most of the afternoon in

planning an elaborate line of defence for a poor devil whom I knew to be

innocent, however blood-guilty might have been his associates. Ku-Klux

had brought that lounging young cavalryman (the other victim reserved

for description), who--confound him--had been the cause of my taking a

metaphorical back seat and an actual front one on entering the car; but

Ku-Klux couldn't have brought _her_ there; and after all, what business

had I bothering my tired brains over this young beauty? I was nothing to

her, why should she be such a torment to me?

In twenty minutes we would be due at Sandbrook, and there I was to leave

the train and jog across the country to the plantation of Judge Summers,

an old friend of my father's and of mine, who had written me to visit

him on my trip, that we might consult together over some intricate

cases that of late had been occupying his attention in that vicinity. In

fact, I was too elderly to devote so much thought and speculation to a

damsel still in her teens, so I resolutely turned eyes and tried to turn

thoughts to something else.

The lamps were being lighted, and the glare from the one overhead fell

full upon my other victim, the cavalryman. I knew him to be such from

the crossed sabres in gold upon his jaunty forage cap, and the heavy

army cloak which was muffled cavalier-like over his shoulders,

displaying to vivid advantage its gorgeous lining of canary color, yet

completely concealing any interior garments his knightship might be

pleased to wear.

Something in my contemplation of this young warrior amused me to that

extent that I wondered he had escaped more than a casual glance before.

Lolling back in his seat, with a huge pair of top boots spread out upon

the cushion in front, he had the air, as the French say, of thorough

self-appreciation and superiority; he was gazing dreamily up at the lamp

overhead and whistling softly to himself, with what struck me forcibly

as an affectation of utter nonchalance; what struck me still more

forcibly was that he did not once look at the young beauty so close

behind him; on the contrary, there was an evident attempt on his part

to appear sublimely indifferent to her presence.

Now that's very unusual in a young man under the circumstances, isn't

it? I had an idea that these Charles O'Malleys were heart-smashers; but

this conduct hardly tallied with any of my preconceived notions on the

subject of heart-smashing, and greatly did I marvel and conjecture as to

the cause of this extraordinary divergence from the manners and customs

of young men,--soldiers in particular, when, of a sudden, Mars arose,

threw off his outer vestment, emerged as it were from a golden glory of

yellow shelter-tent; discovered a form tall, slender, graceful, and

erect, the whole clad in a natty shell-jacket and riding-breeches;

stalked up to the stove in the front of the car; produced, filled, and

lighted a smoke-begrimed little meerschaum; opened the door with a snap;

let himself out with a bang; and disappeared into outer darkness.

Looking quickly around, I saw that the fair face of C. K. or K. C. was

uplifted; furthermore, that there was an evident upward tendency on the

part of the aforementioned supercilious nose, entirely out of proportion

with the harmonious and combined movement of the other features;

furthermore, that the general effect was that of maidenly displeasure;

and, lastly, that the evident object of such divine wrath was, beyond

all peradventure, the vanished knight of the sabre.

"Now, my lad," thought I, "what have you done to put your foot in it?"

Just then the door reopened, and in came, not Mars, but the conductor;

and that functionary, proceeding direct to where she sat, thus addressed

the pretty object of my late cogitations (I didn't listen, but I heard):

"It'll be all right, miss. I telegraphed the judge from Iuka, and reckon

he'll be over with the carriage to meet you; but if he nor none of the

folks ain't there, I'll see that you're looked after all right. Old Jake

Biggs'll be there, most like, and then you're sure of getting over to

the judge's to-night anyhow."

Here I pricked up my ears. Beauty smilingly expressed her gratitude,

and, in smiling, corroborated my theory about the teeth to the most

satisfactory extent.

"The colonel," continued the conductor, who would evidently have been

glad of any excuse to talk with her for hours, "the colonel, him and Mr.

Peyton, went over to Holly Springs three days ago; but the smash-up on

the Mississippi Central must have been the cause of their not getting to

the junction in time to meet you. That's why I brought you along on this

train; 'twasn't no use to wait for them there."

"Halloo!" thought I at this juncture, "here's my chance; he means Judge

Summers by 'the judge's,' and 'the colonel' is Harrod Summers, of

course, and Ned Peyton, that young reprobate who has been playing fast

and loose among the marshals and sheriffs, is the Mr. Peyton he speaks

of; and this must be some friend or relative of Miss Pauline's going to

visit her. The gentlemen have been sent to meet her, and have been

delayed by that accident. I'm in luck;" so up I jumped, elbowed the

obliging conductor to one side; raised my hat, and introduced

myself,--"Mr. Brandon, of New Orleans, an old friend of Judge Summers,

on my way to visit him; delighted to be of any service; pray accept my

escort," etc., etc.--all somewhat incoherent, but apparently

satisfactory. Mademoiselle graciously acknowledged my offer; smilingly

accepted my services; gave me a seat by her side; and we were soon

busied in a pleasant chat about "Pauline," her cousin, and "Harrod," her

other cousin and great admiration. Soon I learned that it was K. C.,

that K. C. was Kitty Carrington; that Kitty Carrington was Judge

Summers's niece, and that Judge Summers's niece was going to visit Judge

Summers's niece's uncle; that they had all spent the months of September

and October together in the north when she first returned from abroad;

that she had been visiting "Aunt Mary" in Louisville ever since, and

that "Aunt Mary" had been with her abroad for ever so long, and was just

as good and sweet as she could be. In fact, I was fast learning all my

charming little companion's family history, and beginning to feel

tolerably well acquainted with and immensely proud of her, when the door

opened with a snap, closed with a bang, and, issuing from outer

darkness, re-entered Mars.

Now, when Mars re-entered, he did so pretty much as I have seen his

brother button-wearers march into their company quarters on inspection

morning, with an air of determined ferocity and unsparing criticism; but

when Mars caught sight of me, snugly ensconced beside the only belle on

the train, the air suddenly gave place to an expression of astonishment.

He dropped a gauntlet; picked it up; turned red; and then, with sudden

resumption of lordly indifference, plumped himself down into his seat in

as successful an attempt at expressing "Who cares?" without saying it,

as I ever beheld.

Chancing to look at Miss Kitty, I immediately discovered that a little

cloud had settled upon her fair brow, and detected the nose on another

rise, so said I,--

"What's the matter? Our martial friend seems to have fallen under the

ban of your displeasure," and then was compelled to smile at the

vindictiveness of the reply:

"_He!_ he has indeed! Why, he had the impertinence to speak to me before

you came in; asked me if I was not the Miss Carrington expected at

Judge Summers's; actually offered to escort me there, as the colonel had

failed to meet me!"

"Indeed! Then I suppose I, too, am horribly at fault," said I, laughing,

"for I've done pretty much the same thing?"

"Nonsense!" said Miss Kit. "Can't you understand? He's a Yankee,--a

Yankee officer! You don't suppose I'd allow myself, a Southern girl

whose home was burnt by Yankees and whose only brother fought all

through the war against them,--you don't suppose I'd allow myself to

accept any civility from a Yankee, do you?" and the bright eyes shot a

vengeful glance at the dawdling form in front, and a terrific pout

straightway settled upon her lips.

Amused, yet unwilling to offend, I merely smiled and said that it had

not occurred to me; but immediately asked her how long before my

entrance this had happened.

"Oh, about half an hour; he never made more than one attempt."

"What answer did you give him?"

"Answer!--why! I couldn't say much of anything, you know, but merely

told him I wouldn't trouble him, and said it in such a way that he knew

well enough what was meant. He took the hint quickly enough, and turned

red as fire, and said very solemnly, 'I ask your pardon,' put on his cap

and marched back to his seat." Here came a pretty little imitation of

Mars raising his chin and squaring his shoulders as he walked off.

I smiled again, and then began to think it all over. Mars was a total

stranger to me. I had never seen him before in my life, and, so long as

we remained on an equal footing as strangers to the fair K. C., I had

been disposed to indulge in a little of the usual jealousy of "military

interference," and, from my exalted stand-point as a man of the world

and at least ten years his senior in age, to look upon him as a boy with

no other attractions than his buttons and a good figure; but Beauty's

answer set me to thinking. I was a Yankee, too, only she didn't know it;

if she had, perhaps Mars would have stood the better chance of the two.

I, too, had borne arms against the Sunny South (as a valiant militia-man

when the first call came in '61), and had only escaped wearing the

uniform she detested from the fact that our regimental rig was gray, and

my talents had never conspired to raise me above the rank of

lance-corporal. I, too, had participated in the desecration of the

"sacred soil" (digging in the hot sun at the first earthworks we threw

up across the Long Bridge); in fact, if she only knew it, there was

probably more reason, more real cause, for resentment against me, than

against the handsome, huffy stripling two seats in front.

He was a "Yank," of course; but judging from the smooth, ruddy cheek,

and the downiest of downy moustaches fringing his upper lip, had but

just cut loose from the apron-strings of his maternal West Point. Why!

he must have been at school when we of the old Seventh tramped down

Broadway that April afternoon to the music of "Sky-rockets," half

drowned in stentorian cheers. In fact, I began, in the few seconds it

took me to consider this, to look upon Mars as rather an ill-used

individual. Very probably he was stationed somewhere in the vicinity,

for loud appeals had been made for regular cavalry ever since the year

previous, when the Ku-Klux began their devilment in the neighborhood.

Very probably he knew Judge Summers; visited at his plantation; had

heard of Miss Kitty's coming, and was disposed to show her attention.

Meeting her on the train alone and unescorted, he had done nothing more

than was right in offering his services. He had simply acted as a

gentleman, and been rebuffed. Ah, Miss Kitty, you must, indeed, be very

young, thought I, and so asked,--

"Have you been long in the South since the war, Miss Carrington?"

"I? Oh, no! We lived in Kentucky before the war, and when it broke out

mother took me abroad. I was a little bit of a girl then, and was put at

school in Paris, but mother died very soon afterwards, and then auntie

took charge of me. Why, I only left school last June!"

Poor little Kit! her father had died when she was a mere baby; her

mother before the child had reached her tenth year; their beautiful old

home in Kentucky had been sacked and burned during the war; and George,

her only brother, after fighting for his "Lost Cause" until the last

shot was fired at Appomattox, had gone abroad, married, and settled

there. Much of the large fortune of their father still remained; and

little Kit, now entering upon her eighteenth year, was the ward of Judge

Summers, her mother's brother, and quite an heiress.

All this I learned, partly at the time, principally afterwards from the

judge himself; but meantime there was the rebellious little fairy at my

side with all the hatred and prejudice of ten years ago, little dreaming

how matters had changed since the surrender of her beloved Lee, or

imagining the quantity of oil that had been poured forth upon the

troubled waters.

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