“Never!” impulsively cried the girl, while the colour flooded into her cheeks.

“Bless him for a cold-blooded icicle!” joyfully exclaimed the officer; and before Janice could realise his intention she was caught in his arms and fervently kissed.  The next moment a door slammed, and he was gone, leaving the girl leaning for very want of breath against the chimney side, with redder cheeks than ever.

The colour still lingered the next morning to such an extent that it was commented upon by both her parents, who found in it proof that she was now reconciled to their wishes.  Had they been closer observers, they would have noticed that several times in the course of the day it waxed or waned without apparent reason, that their daughter was singularly restless, and that any sound out of doors caused her to start and listen.  Not even the getting out and trying on of her wedding gown seemed to interest her.  Yet nothing occurred to break the usual monotony of the life.

Her state of nervous expectancy on the second day was shown when the inevitable contingent of English officers arrived a little before dinner; for as they appeared without previous warning in the parlour door, Janice gave a scream, which startled Philemon, who was relying upon but two legs of his chair, into a pitch over backward, and brought the squire’s gouty foot to the floor with a bump and a wail of pain.

“Body o’ me!” ejaculated one of the new-corners.  “Dost take us for Satan himself, that ye greet us so?”

“Tush, man!” corrected Mobray.  “Miss Meredith could not see under our cloaks, and so, no doubt, thought us rebels.  Who wouldn’t scream at the prospect of an attack of the Continental blue devils—­eh, Miss Janice?”

“Better the blue devils,” retorted Janice, “than a scarlet fever.”

“Hah, hah!” laughed a fellow-officer. “’T was you got us into that, Sir Frederick.  Lieutenant Hennion, your first task after to-morrow’s ceremony is plain and clear.

“Would that I had the suppression of this rebellion!” groaned the baronet, “’stead of one which fights us with direst cold and hunger, to say nothing of the scurvy and the putrid fever.”

For the next few hours cold and hunger and disease were not in evidence, however; and it took little persuasion from the squire, who dearly loved jovial company, to induce the visitors to stay on to tea, and then to supper.

While they were enjoying the latter, the interruption Janice had expected came at last.  In the midst of the cheer, the hall door was swung back so quietly that no one observed it, and only when he who opened it spoke did those at table realise the new arrival.  Then the sight of the blue uniform with buff facings brought every officer to his feet and set them glancing cornerward, to where their side arms were stood.

“I grieve to intrude upon so mirthful a company,” apologised the new arrival, bowing.  “But knowing of the unstinted hospitality of Greenwood, I made bold, Mrs. Meredith, to tell a friend that we could scarce fail of a welcome.”  Brereton turned to say, “This way, Harry, after thou’st disposed thy cloak and hat,” and entered the room.