“No, indeed, my dear, I’ll never get into that carriage again behind those dreadful horses, unless this—this—gentleman (the word was a little difficult) stays right by their heads. I am the greatest coward in the world,” she said to Middleton in the most confiding and friendly manner; “I am afraid of everything.” (Then to her companion again, in a lower tone:) “It is very hard to be beholden to a Yankee; but it is much better than having your neck broken. And we are very much obliged to you, sir, I assure you. Blair, my dear, let the—” She paused and took breath. “_Yankee_,” said Middleton, in a clear voice, much amused, as he worked diligently at a strap. “—_Gentleman_ help us. Don’t be too obstinate. Nothing distinguishes a lady more than her manner of giving in.” So, as Middleton was already at work, the girl could do nothing but yield. He got his straps, and soon had the breaks repaired, and, having, at Miss Thomasia’s request, held the horses while the ladies re-entered the vehicle, and then having started them off, he stood aside and saluted as they passed, catching, accidentally, Miss Cary’s eyes, which were once more grave. The only remark she had volunteered to him outside of the subject of the broken harness was in praise of his horse, which was, indeed, a magnificent animal. A few minutes later, the young Captain galloped by the carriage, but he did not glance in, he simply saluted as he passed, with eyes straight to the front. When he reached home that night Larry Middleton was graver than usual; but little Thurston, after hearing of the adventure, was in better spirits than he had shown for some time. He glanced at Middleton’s half-discontented face, and burst out: “‘Oh! cast that shadow from thy brow.’ It was clearly Providence. Why, Larry, after that they are obliged to invite us to dinner.” “Why, she didn’t even speak to me,” growled Middleton, puffing away at his pipe. “And I know she recognized me, just as clearly as I did her.” “Of course, she recognized you—recognized you as one of the enemies of her country—a hated oppressor—a despicable Yankee. Did you expect her to fall on your neck and weep? On my soul! she’s a girl of spirit! Like my own adorable Elizabeth! All the same, we’re as good for invitations to whatever they give as a dollar is for a doughnut.” And when a day or two later a note from Dr. Cary, in a formal handwriting and equally formal words, was brought to Captain Middleton, thanking him for his “opportune and courteous aid” to his daughter and cousin, Lieutenant Thurston declared that it was an invitation to Middleton’s wedding. CHAPTER XI THE PROVOST CATCHES A TARTAR, AND CAPTAIN MIDDLETON SEEKS THE CONSOLATIONS OF RELIGION