"I object to any such attentions--to any meetings
whatsoever," said he, but sooner than give the real reason, added
lamely, "My daughter is too young." Now he thought he saw impending
duty in his sister's somber eyes and poise. He knew it when she began
by rolling her r's--it was so like their childhood's spiritual guide
and mentor, MacTaggart, erstwhile of the "Auld Licht" persuasion, and
a power.
"Wait a bit, Janet," said he. "Mickel, get my horse and tell Sergeant
Strang to send me a mounted orderly." Then, as Mickel dropped the
saber in the open doorway and departed, he turned upon her.
"Where's Angela?" said he, "and what was she doing out after recall?
The stable sergeant says 'twas six when Punch came home."
"R-r-robert, it is of that I wish to speak to you, and before she
comes to dinner. Hush! She's coming now."
Down the row of shaded wooden porticos, at the major's next door, at
Dr. Graham's, the Scotch surgeon and Wren's especial friend and crony,
at the Lynns' and Sanders's beyond, little groups of women and
children in cool evening garb, and officers in white, were gathered in
merry, laughing chat. Nowhere, save in the eyes of one woman at the
commanding officer's, and here at Wren's, seemed there anything
ominous in the absence of this officer so lately come to join them.
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