“I want to talk with Beauregard,” said Penhallow, “about the South.  Leila can find her way.”

“I can,” she said.  “I want to sketch the river, and that will give me time.”

“Oh, there goes the dinner call.  Come in at a quarter to one with Uncle Jim.  I have leave to admit you.  There will be something to interest you.”

“And what, John—­men eating?”

“No.  One of my best friends, Gresham from South Carolina, has been ordered home by his father.”

“And why?” asked Penhallow.

“Oh, merely because his people are very bitter, and, as he tells me, they write about secession as if it were merely needed to say to the North ’We mean to cut loose’—­and go; it is just to be as simple as ’Good-bye, children.’  I think I wrote you, uncle, that we do not talk politics here, but this quiet assumption of being able to do with us what they please is not the ordinary tone of the Southern cadets.  Now and then there is a row—­”

Leila listened with interest and some presently gratified desire to hear her cousin declare his own political creed.  She spoke, as they stood beside the staff from which the flag was streaming in the north wind, “Would it not be better, John, as Mr. Rivers desires, to let the Southern States go in peace?” As she spoke, she was aware of something more than being merely anxious that he should make the one gallant answer to the words that challenged opinion.  The Squire caught on to some comprehension of the earnestness with which she put the question.

To his uncle’s surprise, the cadet said, “Ah, my dear Leila, that is really asking me on which side I should be if we come to an open rupture.”

“I did not mean quite that, John, and I spoke rather lightly; but you do not answer.”

He somewhat resented this inquisition, but as he saw his uncle turn, apparently expectant, he said quietly and speaking with the low voice which may be so surpassingly expressive, “I hardly see, Leila, why you put such a question to me here under the flag.  If there is to be war—­secession, I shall stand by the flag, my country, and an unbroken union.”  The young face flushed a little, the mouth, which was of singular beauty, closed with a grip on the strong jaw.  Then, to Leila’s surprise, the Captain and John suddenly uncovered as music rang out from the quarters of the band.

“Why do you do that, Uncle Jim?”

“Don’t you hear, Leila?  It is the ’Star Spangled Banner’—­we all uncover.”  Here and there on the parade ground, far and near, officers, cadets and soldiers, stood still an instant bareheaded.

“Oh,” murmured Leila.  “How wonderful!  How beautiful!” Surprised at the effect of this ceremonial usage upon herself, she stood a moment with that sense of constriction in the throat which is so common a signal of emotion.  The music ceased, and as they moved on Penhallow asked, “What about Gresham, your friend?”