oppressed, tormented, tortured by Spain."

"I visited Cuba once. They are nothing but a lot of negroes and
frightfully dirty. Why should we go to war about them?"

"Only about one-third are negroes and there is a large brilliantly
educated and travelled upper class. And I see you need instruction in
more things than politics,--humanity, for instance. Forget that you
are a Southerner, divorce yourself from traditions, and try to imagine
several hundred thousand people--women and children, principally--
starving, hopeless, homeless, unspeakably wretched. Cannot you feel
for them?"

"Oh, yes! Yes!" Betty's quick sympathy sent the tears to her eyes, and
he looked at her with deepening admiration,--a fact the tears did not
prevent her from grasping. "And are we going to war in order to
release them?"

"Ah! I do not know. There is a war feeling growing in the country;
there is no doubt of that. But how high it will grow no one can tell.
The leading men in Congress are indifferent, and won't even listen to
recognizing the Cubans as belligerents. North will not discuss the
subject, and I doubt not is talking over the latest play with Lady
Mary at the present moment."

"And you? Do you want war?"

"I do!" His manner gave sudden rein to its inherent nervousness, and
his voice rang out for a moment as if he were angrily haranguing the
Senate. "Of course I want it. Every human instinct I have compels me