“Yes,” replied the laughing Ruggles; “that’s the fellow, but I’m sorry to say that since they made a major-general of him, he’s become a reg’lar dude. He doesn’t go out when it rains for fear of soiling his uniform, and the noise of powder makes him sick, so be careful how you handle the delicate fellow.”
“Well, you do not need to be told,” was the hearty response of the parson, “that no one could be more welcome than you; let’s shake hands all around again.”
It was some minutes before the flurry was over, for the delight on both sides was unbounded and the joy of the reunion great.
One member of the group lingered in the background. Her face was flushed with delighted expectancy, but with a coyness unknown in her earlier years, she hesitated on the outer edge of the circle. She could not mingle with the rush and waited until the flurry was over. The men were scarcely less embarrassed than she, and while not appearing to see her, both were watching her every movement. When the time came that the meeting could no longer be delayed, Ruggles walked to her and extended his hand.
“Well, Nellie, aren’t you glad to see me?”
The crinkling of the whiskers at the side of the invisible mouth showed that he was laughing, and indeed his white teeth gleamed through his wealth of beard. Nellie promptly advanced and met him half way.
“Mr. Ruggles, I can’t tell you how glad I am to meet you again.”
He had been asking himself whether it would do to kiss this vision of loveliness. He wished to do so, but was afraid. However, the question was settled by the girl, who, instead of taking the hand, flung her arms about his neck and saluted him fervently, that is as well as she could under the conditions.