But the brigadier’s chivalry was not proof against the provocation he was receiving from this valiant and outspoken young woman. He gave her one angry look, gulped down the words he dared not utter to her, and turning hastily back to the parson, said shortly— “This, sir, is no affair to discuss with ladies. ’Tis with you I would have my talk out, and ’tis your explanation I wish to hear. The lady must pardon me, but this is an affair which touches my honor and my fame as a commander.” “Go, my dear, go back to your work,” said her father, patting her hand affectionately, and giving her a nod of command. “Leave these gentlemen and me to settle this together.” Though with manifest reluctance, Joan obeyed, withdrawing her arm from her father’s with one tender glance in his face, and curtseying low to the visitors, with her eyes on the ground, ere retiring. No sooner was she gone back to the kitchen, than the two combatants began again the old discussion, never getting much further with it—the one reproaching, accusing, the other evading, excusing. But they seemed perhaps a little calmer since that pleasant irruption of the sweet sex, even when the gentle presence was withdrawn. So that it presently seemed good to Lieutenant Tregenna to leave them to fight the matter out together, while he made the balance of parties even by beating a retreat to that end of the room where the lady had disappeared. The kitchen door was ajar, and, while the two elderly gentlemen were still banging the table and growing purple in the face, he took the liberty of peeping through the chink. The yellow-washed walls looked bright in the sunlight; the deal table, scrubbed beautifully white, was quite a picturesque object with the great red earthenware dish lying upon it. The jugs on the walls, the metal utensils on the dresser, made a charming picture. So did the tabby cat, curled up in one corner; so, above all, did that particularly neat figure in the gray homespun frock, with the graceful arms and the clever hands, and with that delicious profile above it all. “I tell you, sir, you are no better than a traitor to the king if you do not help his officers.” “I tell you, sir, you don’t know what you are talking about!” Thus the gentlemen jangled on; but their bickering had become an unimportant incident to Tregenna. He made rather a nice picture himself in his smart uniform, with his well-powdered wig surmounting a handsome, clean-cut face, his gray hawks’ eyes, now filled with the light of the young and ardent, his mouth softened by the suspicion of a smile. He held his sword with one hand, that its clanking should not startle her; and his smart three-cornered hat was cocked jauntily under his arm. Suddenly she turned; and by this time he was half inside the kitchen door. Joan uttered a little cry; and, as if taking it for an invitation, Tregenna hopped right in and came up to her. “Sir,” said she, “what business have you with me?”