‘We wish you to keep it,’ he answered.

In accounts of the battle I had seen some notice of my leading a charge but my fame had gone farther — much farther indeed — than I knew.  I stood a moment laughing — an odd sort of laugh it was that had in it the salt of tears — and waving my hand to the many who were now calling my name.

In the uproar of cheers and waving of handkerchiefs I could not find Uncle Eb for a moment.  When I saw him in the breaking crowd he was cheering lustily and waving his hat above his head.  His enthusiasm increased when I stood before him.  As I was greeting him I heard a lively rustle of skirts.  Two dainty, gloved hands laid hold of mine; a sweet voice spoke my name.  There, beside me, stood the tall, erect figure of Hope.  Our eyes met and, before there was any thinking of propriety, I had her in my arms and was kissing her and she was kissing me.

It thrilled me to see the splendour of her beauty that day; her eyes wet with feeling as they looked up at me; to feel again the trembling touch of her lips.  In a moment I turned to Uncle Eb.

‘Boy,’ he said, ‘I thought you...’ and then he stopped and began brushing his coat sleeve.

‘Come on now,’ he added as he took my grip away from me.  ’We’re goin’ t’ hev a gran’ good time.  I’ll take ye all to a splendid tavern somewheres.  An’ I ain’t goin’ if count the cost nuther.

He was determined to carry my grip for me.  Hope had a friend with her who was going north in the morning on our boat.  We crossed the ferry and took a Broadway omnibus, while query followed query.

’Makes me feel like a flapjack t’ride ‘n them things,’ said Uncle Eb as we got out.

He hired a parlour and two bedrooms for us all at the St Nicholas.

‘Purty middlin’ steep!’ he said to me as we left the office.  ’It is, sartin! but I don’t care — not a bit.  When folks has if hev a good time they’ve got t’ hev it.

We were soon seated in our little parlour.  There was a great glow of health and beauty in Hope’s face.  It was a bit fuller but had nobler outlines and a colouring as delicate as ever.  She wore a plain grey gown admirably fitted to her plump figure.  There was a new and splendid ’dignity in her carriage, her big blue eyes, her nose with its little upward slant.  She was now the well groomed young woman of society in the full glory of her youth.

Uncle Eb who sat between us pinched her cheek playfully.  A little spot of white showed a moment where his fingers had been.  Then the pink flooded over it.

‘Never see a girl git such a smack as you did,’ he said laughing.

‘Well,’ said she, smiling, ‘I guess I gave as good as I got.’

‘Served him right,’ he said.  ’You kissed back good ’n hard.  Gran sport!’ he added turning to me.

‘Best I ever had,’ was my humble acknowledgement.

‘Seldom ever see a girl kissed so powerful,’ he said as he took Hope hand in his.  ’Now if the Bible said when a body kissed ye on one cheek ye mus’ turn if other I wouldn’t find no fault.  But ther’s a heap o differ’nce ‘tween a whack an’ a smack.