She drew a chair up to the table and sat down by the side of the boy.
“I am just going to give it to him strong,” said Wilfred.
“That’s the way to give it to him,” said Caroline. “He’s a soldier and he’s accustomed to such things.”
“You can’t fool much with father. He means business,” said Wilfred; “but he will find that I mean business, too.”
“That’s right,” assented Caroline sapiently, “everybody has got to mean business now. What did you say to him?”
“I said this,” answered the youngster, reading slowly and with great pride, “‘General Ransom Varney, Commanding Division, Army of Northern Virginia, Dear Papa’——”
“I wouldn’t say ‘dear papa’ to a General,” interrupted Caroline decisively.
“No? What would you say?”
“I would say ‘Sir,’ of course; that is much more businesslike and soldiers are always so awfully abrupt.”
“You are right,” said the boy, beginning again, “‘General Ransom Varney, Commanding Division, Army of Northern Virginia, Sir’—that sounds fine, doesn’t it?”