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Well, he thought a girl might be prettiest at eighteen and handsomest much later. And again I said to myself, "Charlotte Oliver!" But when I looked searchingly into his eyes their manly sweetness so abashed me that I dropped my glance and felt him looking at me. I remembered my fable and flinched. "Isn't your name--" I cried, and choked, and when I would have said Ferry, another word slipped out instead. He did not hear it plainly:

"That will do. Now, beyond Fayette, about seven miles north, there's a place--"

"Good-bye,--Dick."

"To what command do you belong?" he asked.

"Yaas; well, that's all right, too, suh; I uz on'y a-givin' you a frien'ly aynsweh. I hope you like it."

"Why, the other one--the son. Lieutenant, is she that monster's wife?"

"It is."

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