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"Are you not a New Orleans boy?" she asked as I lifted my képi and drew rein.

I laughed insolently. The young ladies sparkled, and so did Miss Harper, as she asked him who had been the proxy.

"What's the name, General, of the man whose house I'm to go to?"

All I got by looking then was a mellow laugh from behind her relowered veil; but we were going at a swift trot, nearing a roadside fire of fence-rails left by some belated foraging team, and as she came into the glare of it I turned my eyes a second time. She was revealed in a garb of brown enriched by the red beams of the fire, and was on the gray mare I had seen that morning under Lieutenant Edgard Ferry-Durand.

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