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"Good-day, sir," she said, with forced severity, but as I smiled apologetically and moved my rein, she broke down under new temptation and, as the wagon moved away, twittered after me unseen,--"Good-bye, Mr. Smith."

For my part I privately wished this saint wouldn't rub my uninteresting surname into me every time he spoke. As we dismounted near the tents I leaned against my saddle and asked further concerning the object of his loving anxiety. Was Ned Ferry generous, pleasant, frank?

I laughed a gay disdain. "Who is Lucius; is he Charlotte's husband?"

He hiccoughed. "Let's--s'--see y' orders."

"I didn't say it, Lieutenant; you said it."

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