She permitted him to take her hand, but still she failed to recognize him. This seemed to amuse him still more. In truth, she was somewhat agitated by the sight of the uniform he wore, for Walter was on that train, having gone forward to the smoker, Merry accompanying him.
“You knew me in Fardale,” he asserted. “I’ve been wondering if I’d meet any old friends there.”
Then he looked closely at the invalid, and again lifted his hat, saying:
“Mr. Burrage, I think?”
“Yes, yes,” huskily murmured the sick man, who also was alarmed by the appearance of the uniform. “Though, like my daughter, I fail to recognize you, sir.”
“That is not so very strange on your part,” said the young soldier, as he coolly seated himself on the arm of Mr. Burrage’s seat; “but it is a trifle surprising that Miss Burrage should fail to recognize me.”
“You attended the military academy at Fardale?” questioned the girl.
“I had that pleasure. Old Gunn hauled me over the coals many a time, and Scotch used to make me toe the mark. By the way, I hear that Professor Scotch is dead.”
“It is true.”
“Too bad! He was quite a jolly old boy, as we could raise hob with him. Haven’t you recalled my name yet, Miss Burrage?”