“Think you, sir,” asked Washington, gravely, “I have no occasion for my aides, that you make such a request?”

Jack flushed with mortification and temper.  “I supposed that, on the march, you could spare—­”

“I can, my boy,” interrupted the commander-in-chief with a change of manner, “and was but putting off a take-in on you.  My own courting was done while colonel of the First Virginia regiment, and well I remember how galling the military duties were.  ’T is to be feared I was not wholly candid in the reasons calling me from the regiment to Williamsburg, that I alleged to my superiors, for my business at the capital took few hours, and both going and returning I managed to stay many at ’White House.’  May your wooing speed as prosperously,” he finished, extending an arm and pressing his junior’s hand warmly.  “And if by chance you should not overtake us till to-morrow, I’ll think of twenty years ago and spare you a reprimand.”

“God save you, sir!” exclaimed Jack, in an undertone of gratitude.  “I—­I love—­She is—­is so dear to me, that I could not bear the thought of waiting.”  Wheeling his horse, the rider gave him the spur.

The moment the general and staff had trotted away, Mrs. Meredith turned to her daughter and asked, “Hast thou refused Colonel Brereton, Janice?”

“No, mommy,” faltered the girl.

“Then why did he ride off without a word to either of us?”

“I—­’t is—­I can only think that—­that he has come to care for Tibbie—­being in and out of love easily—­and so is ashamed of the part he has played.”

“’T is evident that I was right in my view that thy vanity had misled thee,” replied the mother.  “But we’ll not discuss its meaning now, for I must find out how we stand.  Try to make thyself a task, child.”

Her search for this took the maiden, closely followed by Clarion, to the garden, where she found that weeds, if nothing else, had thriven, though the perennials still made a goodly show.  Before beginning a war on the former, she walked to a great tangle of honeysuckle that clustered about and overtopped a garden seat, to pluck a bunch and stick it in the neckerchief that was folded over her bosom; then she went to her favourite rose-bush and kissed the one blossom July had left to it.  “I’ll not pick you,” she said, “since you are the only one.”

The sound of galloping caught her attention as she raised her head and though she could not see the rider, her ears told her that he turned into Greenwood gate, even before the pace was slackened.  Not knowing what it might bode, the girl stood listening, with an anxious look on her face.  The cadence of the hoof-beats ended suddenly, and silence ensued for a time; then as suddenly, quick footsteps, accompanied by a tell-tale jingle and clank, came striding along the path from the kitchen to the port in the hedge.  One glance Janice gave at the opposite entrance, as if flight were in her thoughts, then, with a hand resting on the back of the seat to steady herself, she awaited the intruder.