Mrs. Temple opened her lips once or twice before words came. Then she spoke.
"George Throckmorton, you think perhaps that, being a soldier, you know what war is. You do not. I, who sat at home and prayed and wept for four long years, for my husband and my son, and to whom only one came back, when I had sent forth two--_I_ know what it is. But God has willed it all. We must forgive. Here is my hand--and show me your son."
Throckmorton, whose knowledge of Mrs. Temple was intimate, despite that long stretch of years, knew what even this small compromise had cost her. He motioned to Jack, who was surveying the scene, surprised and rather angry, from a little distance. The young fellow came up, and Mrs. Temple looked at him very hard, a film gathering in her eyes.
"I am glad you have such a son. Such was our son."
The carriage was now drawn up, and General Temple looked agonizingly at Mrs. Temple. He wanted her to invite Throckmorton to Barn Elms, but Mrs. Temple said not one word. Throckmorton, in perfect silence, helped the ladies into the carriage. He did not know whether to be gratified that Mrs. Temple had conceded so much, or mortified that she had conceded so little.
Jacqueline in the carriage gave him a friendly little nod. Judith leaned forward and bowed distinctly and politely. General Temple, holding his hat stiffly against his breast, remarked in his most grandiose manner: "As two men who have fought on opposing sides--as two generous enemies, my dear Throckmorton--I offer you my hand. I did my best against you in my humble way"--General Temple never did anything in a humble way in his life, and devoutly believed that the exploits of Temple's Brigade had materially influenced the result--"but, following the example of our immortal chieftain, Robert Lee, I say again, here is my hand."
A twinkle came into Throckmorton's eye. This was the same Beverley Temple of twenty-five years ago, only a little more magniloquent than ever and a little more under Mrs. Temple's thumb. Throckmorton, repressing a smile, shook hands cordially.
"Neither of us has any apologies to make, general," he said. "I think that ugly business is over for good. I feel more friendly toward my own unfortunate people now than ever before. Good-by."