He was rather desirous to be gone before Captain Carroll returned.  Although Carroll always treated him with the most punctilious courtesy, even going out of his way to speak to him, the young man always felt a curious discomfort, as if he realized some covert disapprobation on the elder’s part.

“They are late,” Ina said, after the caller’s light coat had disappeared behind the shrubbery.

“I suppose they waited for the moon to rise,” Charlotte replied.  “You know Amy dearly loves to drive by moonlight.”

“Well, let’s go to bed, and not wait,” Ina said, with a yawn.  “I’m so sleepy.”  She had sat with her letter unopened in her lap all evening.

“All right,” assented Charlotte.

“I’m going to sit here till they come,” said Eddy.

“Very well,” said Charlotte, “but mind you don’t stir off the porch.”

The two girls went up to their own rooms.  They occupied adjoining ones.  Charlotte slept in a small room out of the larger one which was Ina’s.

Charlotte came in from her room brushing out her hair, and Ina was reading her letter.  She looked up with a blushing confusion and crumpled the paper involuntarily.

“Oh, you needn’t start so,” said Charlotte.  “I know whom the letter is from.  It’s that old Major Arms.”

“He is not old.  He is no older than papa, and you don’t call him old,” Ina retorted, resentfully.

“I don’t call him old for a father, but I would for—­”

“Well, he isn’t a—­yet.”

“Ina, you ought to tell me.”

“Well, I’m going to marry Major Arms, so there!”

“Oh, Ina!”

The two girls stood staring at each other for a moment, then they ran to each other.  “Oh, Charlotte! oh, Charlotte!” sobbed Ina, convulsively.

“Oh, Ina! oh, honey!”

“I’m going to, Charlotte.  Oh, I am going to!”

“Ina, do you, do you—­”

“What?”

“Love that old Major Arms?” Charlotte spoke out, in a tone of almost horror.

“I don’t know.  Oh, I don’t know,” sobbed Ina.

“Ina, you don’t love—­Mr. Eastman better?”

“No, I don’t,” replied Ina, in a tone of utter conviction. 
“Charlotte, do you know what would happen if I married Mr. Eastman? 
Do you?”

“No, I don’t.”

“All my life long I would be at war with the butcher and baker, just as—­just as we always are.”

“Ina Carroll, you aren’t getting married just for that?  Oh, that is dreadful!”

“No, I am not,” said Ina.  “You call Major Arms old, and you don’t see—­you don’t see how a girl can ever fall in love with him, but—­I think he’s splendid.  Yes, I do.  You can laugh, Charlotte, but I do.  And it is a good deal to marry a man you can honestly say you think is splendid!  But you can do a thing, for a very good, even a noble reason, and all the time know there is another reason not quite so noble, that you can’t help but take some comfort in.  And that is the way I do with this.  Charlotte, poor papa does just the best he can, and there never was a man like him; Major Arms isn’t anything in comparison with papa.  I never thought he was, but there is one thing I am very tired of in this world, and I can’t help thinking with a good deal of pleasure that when I am married I will be free from it.”