None of Baynell's qualities were of the jovial order. He was a martinet, a technical expert in the science of gunnery, a stern and martial leader of men. His mind was an orderly assimilation of valuable information, his consciousness a repelling exclusive assortment of sensitive fibres. He had a high and exacting moral sense, and his pride of many various kinds passed all bounds. He listened with aghast dismay to the story of Mrs. Gwynn's unhappy married life that Ashley rehearsed,--the ordinary gossip of the day, to be heard everywhere,--and then a discussion took place as to whether or not the horse that killed her husband were the vicious charger now ridden by the colonel of a certain regiment. "It couldn't be," said Ashley, "that happened nearly a year ago." This talk hung on for a long time, as it seemed to Baynell. Yet he did not welcome its conclusion, for a greater source of irritation was to come. "But now that you have a footing there, Fluellen, I want you to introduce me," said Colonel Ashley, who was a person of consideration in high and select circles at home, and spoke easily from the vantage-ground of an acknowledged social position. "I should be glad to meet Mrs. Gwynn. I never saw any one whose appearance so impressed me." "Take me with you when you two call," the lieutenant, all unprescient, interjected casually. The next moment he was flushing angrily, for, impossible as it seemed, Baynell was declining in set terms. "My footing there would not justify me in asking to introduce my friends," he said. "I should be afraid of a refusal." Ashley, too, cast a swift, indignant glance upon him. Then, "I'll risk it," he said easily; for ill-humor with him was "about face" so suddenly that it was hardly to be recognized. Baynell showed a stiff distaste for the persistence, but maintained his position. "Judge Roscoe made it plain that it was only for the sake of his friendship with my father that he offered any civility to me--no concession politically. My status as an officer of the 'Yankee army' is an offence and a stumbling-block to him." "Bless his fire-eating soul! I don't want to convert him from his treason. I desire only to call on the lady." "I myself could not call on Mrs. Gwynn," protested Baynell. "She hardly spoke a word to me." "It will be quite sufficient for her to listen to me," laughed Ashley. "She took only the most casual notice of my presence--barely to give me a cup of tea." "Now, Baynell," said the lieutenant, exceedingly wroth. "I want you to understand that I take this very ill of you." He was a tall, spare young fellow, with light, straight brown hair, a light-brown mustache, and a keen, excitable blue eye, which showed well-opened and alert from under the dark brim of his cap as he looked upward, still standing at the side of Baynell's restive horse. "I think it a very poor return for similar courtesy. I took _you_ with me to call on Miss Fisher--and--"