"Yes, we leave by the Pennsylvania, at seven o'clock. The armory's a perfect bedlam. It looks as if every man in New York had collected all his worldly goods and chattels and dumped them on the tan bark," replied the colonel.
"The confusion must be something delightful. I suppose you have plenty of canned peaches?" inquired the brown girl innocently. "I understand that they are the staple food of heroes."
"They're certainly an indispensable stage property," admitted the colonel with something of an effort, recalling various evaporated valiants of the Cuban campaign.
During this profound discussion Ralston's eyes had been wandering from group to group, and at this moment the object of their search herself joined the party upon the other side of the table.
"Have another cup of tea, Ellen," urged Miss Evarts.
"I can't, positively, Aunt Bess," responded the girl; "I must go presently."
"How are things?" said the girl in brown, looking significantly at the colonel. "Have all your officers turned up?"
"Ye-es," he replied. "Constructively."
"Constructively?" persisted his inquisitor. "What a queer way to be present! Rather bad for an officer in a swell regiment to be dilatory, isn't it?"
"Every man has shown up," replied the rather nettled veteran, "except one, and he'll be along, all right."