"Why, howdy, Johnnie—Fan, I reckon I'll go to the office."
"You promised me you wouldn't!"
"Well, I'm better since I took some quinine. How's y' father, Johnnie?"
"Sir? Oh, she's not very well. She craves acids, and—Oh!—Father? he's very—I ain't seen him in a right smart while, sir. He's been sort o' puny for——"
"Sorry," said the General, and was gone.
Fannie held the rose.
"Thank you," said John, looking from it to the kindness in her eye. But she caressed the flower and shook her head.
"It's got thorns," she said, significantly, as she sat down on a step.
"Yes, I understand. I'll take it so."
"I don't know. I'm afraid you'll not want it when"—she laid it to her lips—"when I tell you how you've disappointed me."