JENNY. [Demurely.] He is here now.

BUCKTHORN.  Now?

JENNY.  He’s been here an hour; in the library.

BUCKTHORN.  Why!  Barket and I were in the library fifteen minutes ago.

JENNY.  Yes, sir.  We were in the bay-window; the curtains were closed.

BUCKTHORN.  Oh! exactly; I see.  You may tell him he has my full consent.

JENNY.  He hasn’t asked for it.

BUCKTHORN.  Hasn’t he?  And you’ve been in the bay-window an hour?  Well, my darling—­I was considered one of the best Indian fighters in the old army, but it took me four years to propose to your mother.  I’ll go and see the Captain. [Exit to hall.

JENNY.  I wonder if it will take Captain Heartsease four years to propose to me.  Before he left Washington, nearly two years ago, he told everybody in the circle of my acquaintance, except me, that he was in love with me.  I’ll be an old lady in caps before our engagement commences.  Poor, dear mother!  The idea of a girl’s waiting four years for a chance to say “Yes.”  It’s been on the tip of my tongue so often, I’m afraid it’ll pop out, at last, before he pops the question.

Enter BUCKTHORN and HEARTSEASE from hall.

BUCKTHORN.  Walk right in, Captain; this is the family room.  You must make yourself quite at home here.

HEARTSEASE.  Thank you. [Walking down.

BUCKTHORN.  My dear! [Apart to JENNY.] The very first thing he said to me, after our greeting, was that he loved my daughter.

JENNY.  Now he’s told my father!

BUCKTHORN.  He’s on fire!

JENNY.  Is he? [Looking at HEARTSEASE, who stands quietly stroking his mustache.] Why doesn’t he tell me?

BUCKTHORN.  You may have to help him a little; your mother assisted me. [Turning up stage.] When you and Jenny finish your chat, Captain—­[Lighting a cigar at the mantel.]—­you must join me in the smoking-room.

HEARTSEASE.  I shall be delighted.  By the way, General—­I have been in such a fever of excitement since I arrived at this house—­

JENNY. [Aside.] Fever?  Chills!

HEARTSEASE.  That I forgot it entirely.  I have omitted a very important and a very sad commission.  I have brought with me the note-book of Lieutenant Frank Bedloe—­otherwise Haverill—­in which Miss Gertrude Ellingham wrote down his last message to his young wife.

JENNY.  Have you seen Gertrude?

BUCKTHORN. [Taking book.] How did this note-book come into your possession?

HEARTSEASE.  Miss Ellingham visited the prison in North Carolina where I was detained.  She was going from hospital to hospital, from prison to prison, and from burial-place to burial-place, to find Colonel Kerchival West, if living—­or some record of his death.

BUCKTHORN.  Another Evangeline!  Searching for her lover through the wilderness of this great war!