Annabel had never been happier than she was with the opportunities given her by the preparations for war. Shallow, vain, and energetic, she was perfectly equipped for the role she now assumed. Hearing from Penelope that the ladies of Savannah had begun to organize themselves to make the fullest patriotic effort, she clapped her hands together and went instantly to call on Ann-Elizabeth and Margaret-Ella. Although the latter were to complain behind her back of her bossiness, they were happy enough to be lieutenants to her captaining of committees of towns-women who were soon making bandages and preparing lint, cutting and sewing flannel shirts, finally—and this was to Annabel the most thrilling activity of all—preparing cartridges for muskets and cannon. There was so very much to be done. At last, here was occupation worthy of her! Holding the flag of patriotism, she could bully those about her to her heart’s content. All was not, however, work. There were parties and balls. Indeed, the smallest event provided an excuse for festivity.

James withdrew B.B. from the town school when he learned that even the young boys were taking part in drill and marching. In truth, they went at it eagerly, as boys will at any activity that allows them to imitate men. Annabel said that B.B’s withdrawal was a scandal and that she was ashamed to admit that she was his aunt. She thanked God that her own beloved sons were eager to drill. She was proud of her little Confederate soldiers, she declared, and should the war be a long one, she would not draw back from the mother’s ultimate sacrifice of them to the battlefield of “our Noble Cause.”

Penelope and Nell offered their services, but Annabel told them that at eighty-one and seventy-nine they were too old to be of much use. She asked for Selma instead. So Selma left the plantation school to Pauline while she went into Highboro to take part in the women’s work. Even Doreen joined them two days a week, Annabel had so bullied her. Only Sarah and Edna and Rachel resisted her chivvying. They had their work at Oaks and Beulah Land, they said; and so they did.

There was so much to do and see to as spring went on, Sarah did not pay much attention to Leon’s further withdrawal from all of them. She found him one morning in the office staring at the portrait of her, but when she came in, he went out immediately. No one spoke of his coming to the dinner and supper table smelling of whiskey. He had always enjoyed a drink or two; only now he drank more than that and seemed not to enjoy it at all. He made no kind of scenes, but his eyes were often moist and vague. When others talked, he kept silent. He left off going about the fields with Floyd to oversee the men at their work.