They did not go into the house, but walked over through the grove and sat down on the grass on the farther slope overlooking the rolling lands, with the blue spurs in the distance. There Middleton threw himself at Blair’s feet. He had made up his mind to stake all before he left. As the old mammy passed from the kitchen to the house she made a little detour and cast a glance through the grove. The glint of a white dress through the trees caught her eye, and she gave a little sniff as she went on. An hour later, Middleton, his face as grave as it had ever been in battle, mounted his horse and rode away without returning to the house, and Blair Cary walked back through the grove alone. She turned across to the smaller house which the old mammy occupied. It was empty, and she entered and flung herself on the snowy counterpaned bed. The old woman came in a moment later. She gave the girl a swift glance, and, turning to the window, dropped the white curtain to shut out the slanting afternoon sun. “‘Taint no use to ’sturb yo’self, honey; he ain’ gone.” she said, sympathizingly. “He comin’ back jest so sho’ as I live.” “He _has_ gone,” said Blair, suddenly, with some vehemence. “I have sent him away. I wish he had never come.” But was she thinking of Middleton? The old woman had turned and was looking down at her from where she stood. “An’ I glad you is,” she said. “I ain’t like Yankees, no way. Dat deah Leech man——” “Mammy,” said Blair, rising, “I do not wish you to speak so of a gentleman—who—who has been our guest.” “Yes, honey, dat’s so,” said the old woman, simply, without the least surprise. “Mammy, won’t say no more about him. What I got to do wid abusin’ a gent’man, nohow!” “Oh! Mammy!” said the girl, throwing her arms about her, and the old woman only said: “Yes, honey—yes—yes. But don’t you pester yoreself. ’T’ll all come right.” Next evening the news that Middleton and his company were ordered away was known. Jacquelin was conscious of his heart giving a bound of joy. He would be only cool and chilling to Blair and show her by his manner how disapprovingly he regarded her conduct. After a little, this mood changed and he began to think it would be more manly to be only very dignified and yet show her that he was above harboring little feelings. He would be generous and forgive her. When, however, he met Blair, she was so far from showing any contrition, that she was actually savage to him; so that instead of having an opportunity to display his lofty feelings, Jacquelin found himself thrown into a situation of the strongest hostility to her, and after a lifetime of friendship they scarcely spoke. Their friends tried to patch up the quarrel, but in vain. Jacquelin felt himself now really aggrieved, and Blair declined to allow even the mention of him. Her severity toward him was almost incomprehensible. CHAPTER XVI THE NEW TROOP MEETS THE ENEMY