North and South Trilogy by John Jakes Read Free Book Online Page A

appointment, so I took it instead.” He said nothing more. There was no point in airing family quarrels; no point in telling strangers how Cooper, whom Orry admired, continually disappointed and angered their father with his independent ways.
    “Then you’re the fortunate one,” Hazard Senior declared, leaning on his gold-knobbed stick. “Some say the Academy is a haven for aristocrats, but that’s a canard. The true nature of the Academy is this: it’s the source of the best scientific education available in America.” He punctuated each sentence with a kind of verbal period; the man spoke in pronouncements, Orry thought.
    The sister stepped forward. She was an unsmiling girl of about twenty. Her squarish face was marred by a few pox marks. Her figure was generous, almost too buxom for her puff-shouldered, narrow-waisted dress of embroidered cambric. Gloves and a flower-trimmed poke completed her costume. Miss Virgilia Hazard said, “Would you be kind enough to repeat your first name, Mr. Main?”
    He could certainly understand why she wasn’t married. “Orry,” he said, and spelled it. He explained that his forebears were early settlers of South Carolina and that he was the third member of his family to be called Orry; it was a corruption of Horry, a common Huguenot name pronounced as if the H did not exist.
    Virgilia’s dark eyes challenged him. “Might I ask the nature of your family’s business?”
    Instantly he felt defensive; he knew what she was after.
    “They own a rice plantation, ma’am. Rather large and considered prosperous.” He realized his description was gratuitous and braggy; he was indeed on the defensive.
    “Then I presume you also own slaves?”
    No trace of a smile on his face now. “Yes, ma’am, more than a hundred and fifty. You can’t grow rice without them.”
    “As long as the South perpetuates Negro slavery, Mr. Main, the region will remain backward.”
    The mother touched her daughter’s arm. “Virgilia, this is neither the time nor the place for such a discussion. Your remark was impolite and un-Christian. You hardly know this young man.”
    The sister blinked; it appeared to be the only apology Orry would get.
    “Visitors ashore. Visitors ashore, please!” A bell rang stridently. George bustled around, hugging Billy, his mother, his father. He shook stuffy Stanley’s hand and merely said good-bye to Virgilia.
    Soon the steamer was backing from its berth. The family waved from the pier. They dropped out of sight as the boat headed upstream. The two travelers stared at each other, realizing they were on their own.
    George Hazard, seventeen, felt obliged to apologize to the young man from the South. George didn’t understand his older sister, though he suspected she was mad at the world because she hadn’t been born a man, with a man’s rights and opportunities. Her anger made her a misfit socially; she was too brusque to catch a beau.
    The young Pennsylvanian didn’t understand his sister’s opinions, either. He had never thought much about slavery one way or another. It existed, although many said it should not. He was not about to damn this chap because of it.
    The paddles churned the sunlit water. New York’s piers and buildings disappeared astern. George glanced sidewise at Orry, who in one way reminded him of Stanley. Think carefully first, and don’t act until you do. There was, however, a significant difference. Orry had a natural, genuine smile. Stanley’s smile was priggish and obviously forced.
    George cleared his throat. “My sister was rude to say what she did.”
    The moment he spoke he saw Orry’s shoulders stiffen. But the tone of the statement put the Southerner at ease. Orry asked, “Is she an abolitionist?”
    “I don’t think so. Not an active one, anyway, although I guess she could be. Hope you don’t take her remarks too personally. I expect Virgilia would sass anyone from your part of the country. You’re probably the first Southron