A delightful dinner they had, that little partie carrée; Mrs. Truscott had declined, because she said one more woman would spoil it all, and she wanted to write to Jack. And then Ray had to go and see the colonel and have a long talk with him about the big command he was to take north on the morrow, and to shake hands gravely with the embarrassed veteran, and cordially and gladly with Warner, and to welcome the dozen handsome, soldierly, enthusiastic young graduates, who came in a body to call and pay their respects and tell their young commander how their recruit companies were doing; and then there were a host of other affairs to attend to, and an inspection of all the five hundred horses that were to bear them northward in the morning, and afterwards the four hundred recruits who were to go to the cavalry regiments with him. And then came retreat parade, and the solemn dinner with the colonel and his amiable better half, a dinner which seemed interminable, but which was as much a duty as attending roll-call, and so it was late when he could get into full-dress uniform and go over to the hop and see her once again. Warner, lucky devil, was to be her escort, and the young officers would have taken every dance but for the waltz he found courage to ask for at dinner. How he rebelled at the idea of having to escort Mrs. Whaling! Still, it was all part of his self-imposed penance, thought he, with a grave, quiet smile, as Hogan was helping him to dress, and the strains of the dance music came floating witchingly over the parade. He had only time to see Dandy one moment, to pet and fondle him and praise his beautiful condition (to Hogan's delight), and then, just as tattoo was sounding, there came into the room the quartermaster's clerk with some papers for his signature.
"What are these?" he asked in surprise. "Requisition for forage for one private horse, the property of First Lieutenant William P. Ray, —th Cavalry. Why, man! I own no horse."
"Them's the quartermaster's orders, sir. Lieutenant Blake got permission to buy the horse. It's Dandy, sir, but he said as how it was yours, and you'd sign the papers directly you got back. The forage was issued on that understanding."
"Shure it's all thrue, sir," said Hogan. "Dandy was bought last week, sir, and I thought as how Mr. Blake had told you."
Ray said no word more. His eyes were filling; he signed the papers, finished dressing in silence, escorted Mrs. Whaling with entire civility, and never heard a word she said though she talked volubly every inch of the way; and once at the hop-room and he could break loose from Mrs. Turner, who seized him to upbraid him for not stopping to speak to her, and to tell him she had saved three dances expressly for him, and she had such a host of things she wanted to tell him, and she had been hearing such a host of things about him, etc., etc., he found Blake and caught him by the sleeve.
"No dodging now, Blakey. Who bought Dandy? Who gave him to me?"
"Well—dang it! I did. Haven't I a right to?"
"No, old man; and, forgive my saying it, you and I cannot afford such presents. What was he appraised at?"
"Oh, they fixed it low; because he was to be yours, you know. I got him for two hundred."
"But, Blake, you hadn't ten dollars when I went away. I know full well how much I owe you in this matter. Bless you, old man! But—the truth now. You can afford to tell me when I say I must know before it comes to saying good-night to her. What had Miss Sanford to do with it?"