Upon being assured that she could not, she cheerily bade the girl make haste, and to remember that she was expected to return the next day. "I shall miss the child sorely," she said, as the click of Dorothy's little heels died away on the floor above. Hugh said nothing, but sighed heavily, as he stood looking out of the window with eyes that saw nothing. His mother went to him and laid a gentle hand upon his broad shoulder. "Oh, my son, my dear son," she said in a trembling voice, "my old heart is sore for you. I have hoped for years that--" He whirled suddenly about. "Don't mother--don't say any more--not now. Let me fight it out alone, and try to keep such a bearing as will prevent her from knowing the truth." Then the passion in his voice died out, and he caressed her gray hair with a loving touch. She drew his face down and kissed him. "Come," she said, with an effort at cheerfulness,--"come into the other room and have speech with Mary before you go, else she'll think we've lost all proper sense of our manners. This is the first time you and she have met since her marriage." CHAPTER XXXII It was evening when the party reached the headquarters at Cambridge. A faint afterglow of the brilliant sunset still lingered, but the roadway leading to the entrance of the house was dusky with the shadows of coming night, which almost hid the great trees on either side. The air about was filled with the faint hum of camp life. Occasionally a voice could be heard, or the neighing of a horse,--figures of men were discernible here and there, and a sentry was pacing before the steps of the mansion. "Here we are, Dot," said her brother; and dismounting, he helped her from her horse. "Careful, child;" for she had tripped, her riding-skirt having become entangled about her feet as she followed him into the open doorway. "I will take you directly to the room prepared for you, and do you wait there until I return." She said nothing, but held fast to his arm. "Come, be brave," he whispered; "there is naught for you to fear." And he led her within, leaving Hugh Knollys with the other men outside. The hall was spacious and well lighted. Several officers and privates were moving about, all of whom stared wonderingly at the unusual sight of a lady,--although it was not easy to decide whether it was a woman or child--this dainty little figure in the riding-habit, who was looking about with unconcealed curiosity. Far down the hall, to the left, her brother opened a door, showing a spacious, well-furnished chamber, where a wood fire was blazing,--for the night was drawing in chilly. "Now take off your hat, child, and feel at home," he said, kissing her. "Remember there is naught to fear. It is only that we are wishing to fix matters for you, little one, so that you'll be happy." And he kissed her again as she clung to his neck. "Ah, Jack," she whispered, "you are so good to me!"