"No, no, my dear; you were always a careless person; one is never safe to place dependence on you in minor matters. I declare, all men are alike --leastwise soldiers are. A blanket and a haversack, and the world may wag at will, so far as they concern themselves." Rising, she adjusted her hat, saying: "I must run down to Mrs. Taylor's for a minute. Her baby is very ill, and she has sent for me. You will stay here, Major," and she swept out. "When do you depart for your hunting with Mr. Harding, Ermine?" asked Searles. "I must go soon. He left camp three days ago, and I have promised to follow." "I should think you would be delighted to hunt. I know I should if I were a man," cheerfully remarked the young woman. "I have always hunted, Miss Searles. I think I should like to do something else." "What, pray?" "Oh, I don't know, something with a white shirt in it." "Isn't that foolish? There is no more fun in a white shirt than there is in a buckskin one, and there is no fun in either when it rains, I am told." A passing officer appealed to the Major to come out; he was needed, together with other requests to follow, with reasons why haste was important. "All right, I will be back in a moment, daughter." And the officer took himself off in complete disobedience of his wife's orders. "Don't be gone long, father; there is no one here but Mary and the striker. You know I cannot depend on them." "You keep the wolves off, Ermine; I won't be gone a minute." And Ermine found himself alone again with Katherine. This time she was not pale unto death, but warm and tingling. Her lover's hands and feet took better care of themselves on a horse than in a chair, but the gloom under the porch at least stayed some of the embarrassment which her eyes occasioned him. Indeed, it is well known that lovers prefer night attacks, and despite the law and the prophets, they manage better without an audience. She gained a particularly entrancing attitude in her chair by a pussy-cat wiggle which let the point of her very small foot out of concealing draperies. One hand hung limply toward Ermine over the arm of the chair, and it seemed to scream out to him to take hold of it. "And when do you go, Mr. Ermine?" This seemed safe, and along the lines of his self-interest. "I go to-morrow; I have given my word." "Very naturally there can be nothing to delay you here," she continued; "the fighting is over, I hear." "There is something in the world beside fighting." "Yes?" she evaded. "Yes, you detain me." "I!" and the little foot went back to its nest; the extended hand rose in protest. "I detain you! My dear Mr. Ermine, I do not understand how I detain you; really, I am quite recovered from my fall." "You may have got well, Miss Searles, but I am not. Do you remember?" "Remember--remember--do I remember? What should I remember? I am told you were very good to me, but I was laboring under such a shock at the time that you cannot expect much of my memory."