Just then the breeze brought them the bugle notes. “Too bad!” said the aid. “Oh, confound it, there’s taps!” said the colonel, tears of vexation in her eyes. “You’ll have to go without me.” And before they realized it, she had said her good-nights and gone upstairs. “H’m!” said her uncle, reflectively. “She was probably tired and sleepy,” said Mrs. Eyre, gently. “She’ll be out at that stable at five to-morrow,” said the aid. And, sure enough, Colonel Jerry appeared at the nine-o’clock breakfast the next day radiant from three hours spent in the great horse’s stable. “Well, colonel,” said her uncle, coming in late, “what do you think of The Lady?” The plain little face was transformed by a wide smile. “Oh, Uncle Bob! I never saw such a horse! Baron let me lead her down to water! She’s the most beautiful horse I ever saw!” “You’ll be disobeying your father,” he said, smiling, “and running off some day on The Lady’s back.” She glanced down at her little sleeve, where the device of a colonel was exquisitely embroidered. “We’d do a good deal not to have that taken off our sleeve, wouldn’t we?” said her father. “Most anything,” she answered, with her flashing smile. Her own little horse was sick, but she and Rose rode the big carriage horses every day, and Jerry did her best to entertain this rather difficult guest. The two children found enough in common to spend the days pleasantly. Rose developed a profound respect for her wild little cousin, and Jerry grew to enjoy Rose’s company--even though Rose could not obey orders, and held bugle-calls in contempt. Both children, as well as all the others on the post, were planning for the Fourth of July. All their money went for fireworks, they shouted the national songs, they cheered the band that practiced nightly before the house. The third of July broke hot and cloudless. By nine o’clock, the piazza rail burned one’s fingers, and as the hours went by the heat shut down over the earth like a blanket. A heavy haze hung over the meadows, and lines of heat dazzled up from the far, blue mountains. Jerry, coming out from an hour’s enforced practice on her violin, stretched luxuriously in the heat. The post seemed deserted. The heat beat steadily down; there seemed to be no shadow anywhere. Locusts hummed loudly. Jerry knew that her father and uncle had gone to Hayestown to meet the general. They would be back to a late lunch at three. She strolled around to the stable. Henry, polishing harness, beamed upon her, and wiped his forehead. “Git me a fur coat an’ build up the fire,” said he, grinning. “Shame on you!” said the colonel, plunging her bared arms deep into the trough. “Say, Henry, do you know if my aunt and cousin went with dad and Uncle Bob?” “Why,” said Henry, with a troubled look, “your aunt and cousin went riding! Full an hour ago! Yes, sir, they left about eleven o’clock. They says they was going to get back about half-past two.”