To say that Uncle Lawrence was not flattered by this mark of attention from the commander-in-chief, would be to misrepresent human nature. Yet he did not permit it to destroy his composure at the time, nor would his manner, a minute after, have betrayed the fact to an observer. He had too just an estimate of himself to be awed by the notice even of the General, though he looked up, and almost reverenced Washington, as possessor of a virtue nearly fabulous. He had also too strong a sense of the common brotherhood and inborn equality of all men, to feel dwarfed in the presence of any one, however high his rank or fortune.
“You have kept your promise. I am so glad,” said the bride, beckoning Uncle Lawrence to her, as the General left him. “How are they all at dear Sweetwater?”
“Very well, darling,” said the veteran, “or rather I should say,” he added, with a sly twinkle of the eye, emphasizing the name, “Mrs. Gordon.”
Kate blushed crimson. It was almost the first time she had been called by her new title. She understood the little touch of pleasantary on the part of the old man, however, and replied,
“No, call me darling still, I like it better from you. Though,” she added, archly, “the other is a pretty name enough, at least ‘my lord and master’ thinks so, I suppose.”
“He’ll have his hands full,” answered the old man, entering into this gay spirit, “if you begin in that fashion. I’m telling your bride, Major,” he said, as the bridegroom approached, “that you must begin at once breaking her in, or she’ll get the bit in her teeth, and runaway with you one of these days. When I was married, an old friend told me that the best way was to smash all the chaney, break the looking glass, and kick over the breakfast table, the very first day, and that arter that my wife would be so skeered that she’d never dare to have a will of her own.”
“But you didn’t do it,” answered Kate, laughingly, quick as ever at repartee, “or else you wouldn’t be afraid to go into the best room with your muddy boots on, which, you know, Uncle Lawrence,” she added, saucily, “is your great cross in life.”
“It’s no use talking, when you’re by,” replied the veteran, “you’ll have the last word always. If the Major here was to get druv half crazy, and drown you, as they did scolds in the old times, you’d snap your fingers at him, after your head was already under water.”
The bride turned fondly to her husband, and putting her hand on his arm, looked at Uncle Lawrence, merrily challenging his misrepresentation. The Major laughed, Kate blushed, and the veteran, shaking his head, said,
“Well, if I’m not called in till you quarrel, I reckon I’ll have an easy time of it.”