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Her eyes danced, her brows arched. "Haven't you got"--she hid her smile with an embroidered handkerchief--"haven't you got your second figure upside down?" I glared, but with one look of hurt sisterliness she melted me. Then, pensive just long enough to say, "I was nineteen once," she shot me a sidelong glance so roguish that I was dumb with indignation and tried to find my mustache, forgetting I had shaved it off to stimulate it. She smiled in sweet propitiation and then came gravely to business. "Have you come from beyond the pickets?"

"Has he a taste for fiction?" I asked, with a depreciative smirk.

"Cockerel, did you say?"

"Oh, General, if you send an officer they'll see the ruse! I can do it! I'll do it all right!"

"Maiden passing fair, turn again thine eyes! Turn again thine eyes, love's true mercy learn.

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