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The patient gentleman smiled again as he said, "Oh--Gholson can attend to that."

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:

The young ladies were in rapture. Miss Harper asked how he had done it.

I almost leaped from the ground in consternation. My whole frame throbbed, my mouth fell open, my tongue was tied.

Major Harper's black boy brought me the Yankee's horse with my bridle and saddle on him; an elegant animal as fresh as a dawn breeze. Also he produced a parcel, my new uniform, and a wee note whose breath smelt of lavender as it said,--

"Who don't belong to Ferry's scouts at all," I still more sweetly added.

"My mother! Do you know my mother?"

"That is what we want," was his reply; "only, they must not know we want it. Keep very still; don't move." At that word they espied us and galloped back.

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