“But, Mrs. Rayner, I did not understand Gregg’s remarks to be what you say, exactly.  Blake told me that when asked by somebody whether he was going to call on Mr. Hayne, Gregg simply replied he didn’t know,—­he would ask the colonel.”

“Very well.  That means, he proposes to be guided by the colonel, or nothing at all; and Captain Gregg is simply doing what the others will do.  They say to us, in so many words, ’We prefer the society of your bete noire to your own.’  That’s the way I look at it,” said Mrs. Rayner, in deep excitement.

It was evident that, though none were prepared to endorse so extreme a view, there was a strong feeling that the colonel had put an affront upon the Riflers by his open welcome to Mr. Hayne.  He had been exacting before, and had caused a good deal of growling among the officers and comment among the women.  They were ready to find fault, and here was strong provocation.  Mr. Foster was a youth of unfortunate and unpopular propensities.  He should have held his tongue, instead of striving to stem the tide.

“I don’t uphold Hayne any more than you do, Mrs. Rayner, but it seems to me this is a case where the colonel has to make some acknowledgment of Mr. Hayne’s conduct—­”

“Very good.  Let him write him a letter, then, thanking him in the name of the regiment, but don’t pick him up like this in the face of ours,” interrupted one of the juniors, who was seated near Miss Travers (a wise stroke of policy:  Mrs. Rayner invited him to breakfast); and there was a chorus of approbation.

“Well, hold on a moment,” said Foster.  “Hasn’t the colonel had every one of us to dinner more or less frequently?”

“Admitted.  But what’s that to do with it?”

“Hasn’t he invariably invited each officer to dine with him in every case where an officer has arrived?”

“Granted.  But what then?”

“If he broke the rule or precedent in Mr. Hayne’s case would he not practically be saying that he endorsed the views of the court-martial as opposed to those of the department commander, General Sherman, the Secretary of War, the President of the United—­”

“Oh, make out your transfer papers, Foster.  You ought to be in the cavalry or some other disputatious branch of the service,” burst in Mr. Graham.

“I declare, Mr. Foster, I never thought you would abandon your colors,” said Mrs. Rayner.

“I haven’t, madame, and you’ve no right to say so,” said Foster, indignantly.  “I simply hold that any attempt to work up a regimental row out of this thing will make bad infinitely worse, and I deprecate the whole business.”

“I suppose you mean to intimate that Captain Rayner’s position and that of the regiment is bad,—­all wrong,—­that Mr. Hayne has been persecuted,” said Mrs. Rayner, with trembling lips and cheeks aflame.

“Mrs. Rayner, you are unjust,” said poor Foster.  “I ought not to have undertaken to explain or defend the colonel’s act, perhaps, but I am not disloyal to my regiment or my colors.  What I want is to prevent further trouble; and I know that anything like a concerted resentment of the colonel’s invitation will lead to infinite harm.”