"Then," said Merrylips, "thou hast no right to wear that soldier's coat. Thou art thyself but a young lad and no soldier."
Surely, there would have been a bitter quarrel, then and there, but just at that moment Slanning and Lieutenant Crashaw sauntered into the garden.
"Hola, young Venner!" Slanning sang out.
"Go to thy friends!" Rupert said, in a low voice. "They'll use thee fairly. I care not, I! 'Tis only little boys like thou are fain to be made much of."
Then Rupert marched away, very stiffly, and Merrylips stood wondering what it was all about. But while she was wondering, Slanning and Crashaw came to the spot where she stood. They set to playing a fine game that Merrylips' brothers had often played at Walsover, a game in which they pitched horseshoes over a crowbar that was driven into the ground some twenty paces away. And part of the time they let Merrylips play too.
So friendly were they all three together that at last Merrylips ventured to ask a question.
"If it like you, Cornet Slanning, may I not wear this sash, even though I be not an officer?"
"Who saith thou art not?" Slanning answered.
Merrylips shook her head. Though she thought Rupert a rude lad, she could not bear tales of him.
"I—I did but wonder," she stammered.