A servant knocked at the door, with the information that two gentlemen were in the drawing-room.
“Dear me! I must go in at once,” said Laura. “Now tell me you’ll be quick and follow, Darling.”
Clara gave the required pledge, and proceeded to arrange her hair. Laura looked on for a minute envying her those thick brown tresses, and then darted into the next room where the visitors were waiting. Greeting them with her usual animation of manner, she asked Onslow for the news.
“The news is,” said Onslow, “my friend Charles is undergoing conversion. We shall have him an out-and-out Secessionist before the Fourth of July.”
“On what do you base your calculations?” asked Kenrick.
“On the fact that for the last twelve hours I haven’t heard you call down maledictions on the Confederate cause.”
“Perhaps I conclude that the better part of valor is discretion.”
“No, Charles, yours is not the Falstaffian style of courage.”
“Well, construe my mood as you please. Miss Tremaine, your piano stands open. Does it mean we’re to have music?”
“Yes. Hasn’t the Captain told you of his meeting a young lady,—Miss Perdita Brown?”