The Colonel chatted gaily. In the presence of a pretty woman he was a typical soldier. About them were the benches filled with the white headed veterans, as they entered the square. But a few years and these had been the fighting men of the country--its defence--playing parts modest or heroic on a hundred half forgotten battle fields. Now, they, too, bowed with age, rested in their years, and waited--waited calmly, as true soldiers should, with the taste of good tobacco upon their lips and the blare of martial music in their ears, the coming of the ever nearing shadow. "Why have I never heard this band down town, Colonel Ryan? It is a shame when they play so beautifully. Do they charge for concerts?" asked Virginia, as an idea developed behind the blue eyes. "People want young and handsome men to play for them if they pay for it," laughed Colonel Ryan. "So my old codgers don't get many chances of that sort." "Who has charge of the band?" Virginia's manner meant business. The Colonel loved a pretty face. He was enjoying himself. "Do you want to object to the leader about his interpretation of a favorite air?" "Don't tease, Colonel Ryan," she protested. "I want to know who has authority to make engagements for the band. Please be serious." "You frighten me into submission, Miss Dale. Do you wish to engage the band?" "I do, Colonel Ryan." The girl's voice was almost imploring. He looked down into the depths of the pleading eyes. Never in his long life had he refused a pretty woman anything, and it is doubtful if he could have done so. Yet, he desired to prolong the pleasure of the moment. "May I ask, without undue curiosity, for what purpose you desire the organization?" "I want them to give a concert for the old ladies at the Lucinda Home," she explained. Colonel Ryan choked. He recovered himself quickly. Military training is of value in difficult moments. "I was over there this afternoon, Colonel Ryan. The place was so lonesome that I thought it needed some excitement. They asked me to give an entertainment. Your band would be the very thing. It plays so loud that even the deaf ladies could hear." He who had borne the burden of a regiment of men bowed sympathetically, but his face and neck displayed symptoms of apoplexy. "The Lucinda Home is a graveyard, Colonel Ryan. When I see all of these old men sitting around and talking and smoking while the band plays lively airs to them, it makes me sorry for those women. I should love to live here. But I should die over there. It is dreadful to be lonesome." Colonel Ryan agreed with great gravity. Virginia waxed forceful. "Those old ladies should be made as happy as these soldiers," she argued. "Isn't a woman as good as a man, Colonel Ryan?" The Commandant by his silence refused this challenge to a discussion upon woman's rights. "Those old ladies should have everything that these men have," maintained the girl, with great emphasis.