"
"I think you will fail--I know Uncle Jim. But what you tell me--is it
very bad? I mean, is he--are the mills--likely to fail?"
"That depends as I see it on the summer nominations and the fall
elections, and their result no one can predict. The future looks to me
full of peril."
"But why?" she asked, and had some surprise when he said, "I have lived
in the South. I taught school in Macon. I know the South, its increasing
belief in the despotic power of cotton and tobacco, its splendid courage,
and the sense of mastery given by the ownership of man. Why do I talk my
despair out to a young life like yours? I suppose confession to be a
relief--the tears of the soul. I suppose it is easier to talk to a
woman." "Then why not to Aunt Ann?" thought Leila, as he went on to say,
"I have often asked myself why confession is such a relief." He smiled as
he added, "I wonder if St. Francis ever confessed to Monica." Then he was
silent, turning round before the fire, unwilling to leave it.
Leila had been but recently introduced to the knowledge of St. Francis,
and was struck with the oddity of representing Monica; and the tall,
gaunt figure with the sad eyes, as the joyful St. Francis.
"Now, I must go home," he said.
"Indeed, no! You are to go with me to the post-office and then to see
Mrs.
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