“This, Miss! THIS!” exclaimed the almost infuriated old man, holding up the paper with one hand and rapping upon it with the fist of the other.
“Don’t make a noise over the breakfast table, you dear old boy—it is impolite; and don’t destroy the paper before other people have read it,—it is selfish. But tell me like a good boy, what’s the row?”
“She is half right. Erminie, my dear, I beg your pardon; but that girl of mine is enough to drive any sane man mad! Ethel, take that and read it,” said the major, extending the paper to the lieutenant and pointing out the offensive paragraph.
It was headed—
A GIRL DRAFTED BY MISTAKE AND INSISTING ON SERVING.
And it was a full account of Elfie’s visit to the Provost Marshal’s office and all that took place in her interview with the officers there.
“There!” said the major, when Ethel had finished reading—“what do you think of that? Oh, I’ll take her across to St. Elizabeth’s and shut her up in the lunatic asylum!”
“No you won’t, pap! People can’t do that with sane women in this country! Now do be just! that’s a nice old boy! Could I help being drafted?”
“It was some infernal mistake! I beg your pardon, Erminie, my dear. It was some mistake. But you could have helped reporting, you exasperating——”
—“As if I would have helped reporting, pap? No! I leave that sort of poltroonery to the men!” said Elfie.