"Most of all if it should be war. Then I shall be one of those who will
be needed most."

"A right and proper spirit," said Mr. Jamison, of Barnwell. "When we
can command such enthusiasm we are unconquerable. Now, we'll not keep
you longer, Mr. Kenton. This is Christmas Day, and one as young as you
are is entitled to a share of the hilarity. Look after him, St. Clair."

Harry went out with young St. Clair, whom he was now calling by his
first name, Arthur. He, too, was staying with Madame Delaunay, who was
a distant relative.

Harry ate Christmas dinner that evening with twenty people, many of
types new to him. It made a deep impression upon him then, and one yet
greater afterward, because he beheld the spirit of the Old South in its
inmost shrine, Charleston. It seemed to him in later days that he had
looked upon it as it passed.

They sat in a great dining-room upon a floor level with the ground.
The magnolias and live oaks and the shrubs in the garden moved in the
gentle wind. Fresh crisp air came through the windows, opened partly,
and brought with it, as Harry thought, an aroma of flowers blooming in
the farther south. He sat with young St. Clair--the two were already
old friends--and Madame Delaunay was at the head of the table, looking
more like a great lady who was entertaining her friends than the keeper
of an inn.

Madame Delaunay wore a flowing white dress that draped itself in folds,
and a lace scarf was thrown about her shoulders. Her heavy hair,