"Then let this be your flag," cried the noble girl with a burst of enthusiasm which echoed that which rung in Colonel Washington's tones. A large _fauteuil_, covered with heavy crimson silk embroidered with raised laurel-leaves, was standing near. Miss Elliott seized, as she spoke, the scissors from her work-basket, and in a moment had cut out the rectangular piece which covered the back and offered it to her distinguished guest. Washington bowed low with courtly grace and touched his lips to the fair hand which presented it, while young Peyton, carried away by the excitement of the moment, sprang to his feet with a cheer which started the wild birds from the shrubbery: "Colonel Washington, I claim the right, by Miss Elliott's commission, to carry that flag into action, and I swear that it shall never be stained with dishonor while Walter Peyton has a right hand to grasp its staff." "Take it, my boy," said the colonel in a voice tremulous with emotion, "and guard it with your life. With God's help we will make that flag a terror to the enemies of our country.--Miss Elliott, accept a soldier's gratitude for your precious gift to-day. No prouder banner ever waved over battle-field or claimed the devotion of patriotic hearts. It shall be fringed and mounted this very night in Charleston, and I pledge my sacred honor that Washington's Light Horse shall prove worthy of their trust." There was a pause in the conversation which was broken by young Peyton, who rattled on for some time with Miss Stead in that light vein which the most serious circumstances cannot long repress when youth and beauty meet. Colonel Washington spoke but little, and with an evident effort at gayety which ill agreed with the earnest, thoughtful look which settled on his features, while Miss Elliott could not conceal the embarrassment which her heightened color and downcast eyes betrayed as she toyed with her embroidery, avoiding the glances of deep and ardent yet restrained admiration with which her distinguished guest regarded her. The hour had arrived when the soldiers must resume their journey; and while Rebecca Stead stood watching from the piazza the final preparations which the young orderly was making for the march, Colonel Washington took the hand of his fair hostess and after a moment's hesitation bowed low and pressed it to his lips, but with somewhat more of warmth than was required by the stately courtesy of the day. Their eyes met for an instant, and then, without one word of spoken adieu, they parted. When Miss Stead turned to join her friend she found herself alone with old Billy, who was gazing after the fast-receding forms of the troopers. "Mass' Tahlton done ketch de debbil ef he meet dem Virginia man to-night," said the old fellow sententiously as he slowly retired into his pantry.