So I sat down with them and ate, and it was, or seemed to be, a happy company there before our little hut, with officers and troops passing to and fro and glancing curiously at us, and our Indians squatted behind us all a-row, and shining up knife and hatchet and rifle; and the bugle-horns of the various regiments sounding prettily at intervals, and the fifers and drummers down by the river at distant morning practice.

“You love best the bellowing conch-horn of the rifles,” observed Lana to Lois, with a touch of her old-time impudence.

“I?” exclaimed Lois.

“You once told me that every blast of it sets you a-trembling,” insisted Lana.  “Naturally I take it that you quiver with delight—­ having some friend in that corps——­”

“Lana!  Have done, you little baggage!”

“Lord!” said Lana. “’Twas Major Parr I meant.  What does an infant Ensign concern such aged dames as you and I?”

Lois, lovely under her mounting colour, continued busy with her porridge.  Lana said in my ear: 

“She is a wild thing, Euan, and endures neither plaguing nor wooing easily.  How I have gained her I do not know....  Perhaps because I am aging very fast these days, and she hath a heart as tender as a forest dove’s.”

Lois looked up, seeing us whispering together.

“Uncouth manners!” said she.  “I am greatly ashamed of you both.”

I thought to myself, wondering, how utter a change had come over the characters of these two in twice as many weeks!  Lois had now something of that quick and mischievous gaiety that once was Lana’s; and the troubled eyes that once belonged to Lois now were hers no longer, but Lana’s.  It seemed very strange and sad to me.

“Had I a dozen beaux,” quoth Lois airily, “I might ask of one o’ them another bit of trout.”  And, “Oh!” she exclaimed, in affected surprise, as I aided her.  “It would seem that I have at least one young man who aspires to that ridiculous title.  Do you covet it, Euan?  And humbly?”

“Do I merit it?” I asked, laughing.

“Upon my honour,” she exclaimed, turning to Lana, “I believe the poor young gentleman thinks he does merit the title.  Did you ever hear of such insufferable conceit?  And merely because he offers me a bit of trout.”

“I caught them, too,” said I.  “That should secure me in my title.”

“Oh!  You caught them too, did you!  And so you deem yourself entitled to be a beau of mine?  Lana, do you very kindly explain to the unfortunate Ensign that you and I were accustomed at Otsego to a popularity and an adulation of which he has no conception.  Colonels and majors were at our feet.  Inform him very gently, Lana.”

“Yes,” said Lana, “you behaved very indiscreetly at Otsego Camp, dear one—­ sitting alone for hours and hours over this young gentleman’s letters——­”

“Traitor!” exclaimed Lois, blushing.  “It was a letter from his solicitor, Mr. Hake, that you found me doting on!”