You're beautiful now, so I know she must have been."

Silent and close they stood, and he could feel her shoulders
trembling a little. An ambling breeze swept up the hill and
stirred the brim of her floppidy hat.

"Let's go down there!"

She was pointing to a flat stretch on the other side of the hill
where along the green turf were a thousand grayish-white crosses
stretching in endless, ordered rows like the stacked arms of a
battalion.

"Those are the Confederate dead," said Sally Carrol simply.

They walked along and read the inscriptions, always only a name
and a date, sometimes quite indecipherable.

"The last row is the saddest--see, 'way over there. Every cross
has just a date on it and the word 'Unknown.'"

She looked at him and her eyes brimmed with tears.

"I can't tell you how real it is to me, darling--if you don't
know."

"How you feel about it is beautiful to me."

"No, no, it's not me, it's them--that old time that I've tried to
have live in me. These were just men, unimportant evidently or