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The aide-de-camp laughed like a rustic and vanished. "Smith," said the Major, "your eyes are--"

"I am his clerk." In the car a flash of joy and then great decorum.

"Why, what does all this mean?" asked Miss Harper amid her nieces' cries.

"Too tired?"

"You recognize her?" the rider asked, delightedly. "She's not stolen, she's only served her country a little better than usual to-day; haven't you, Cousin Sallie?" (Cousin Sallie was short for Confederate States.)

I mumbled something about never wishing to tempt any one.

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