"Sure, dearie! The Alamo it shall be," smiled her father. "Then to-morrow I'll take you to Fort Sam Houston where there are live soldiers."
"Oh, is there an army post here, truly?" cried Tilly.
"Only the largest in the country," answered the Texan, proudly.
"Really? Oh, how splendid! I just love soldiers!"
"Really?" mimicked Mr. Hartley, mischievously. "They'll be pleased to know it, I'm sure, Miss Tilly."
The others laughed. Tilly blushed and shrugged her shoulders; but she asked no more questions about Fort Sam Houston for at least five minutes.
"Now where's the place—the really, truly place?" demanded Cordelia, in an awed voice, when the party had reached the Alamo Plaza.
"The place—the real place, Miss Cordelia," replied Mr. Hartley, "where the fight occurred, was in a court over there; and the walls were pulled down years ago. But this little chapel was part of it, and this is what everybody always looks at and talks about. The relics are inside. We'll go in and see them, if you like."
"If we like!" cried Genevieve, fervently. "Just as if we didn't want to see everything—every single thing there is to see!" she finished, as her father led the way into the dim interior under the watchful eyes of the caretaker.
Even Tilly, for a moment, was silenced in the hush and somberness of the place. Genevieve stole to her father's side. Mr. Hartley, with bared head, was wearing a look of grave reverence.