"It doesn't seem quite the thing on Sunday, does it?" murmured Priscilla to Amy; whereat Martine, laughing loudly, cried:
"But surely it is better for the soldiers to turn out to church in a body than to sit in their barracks moping."
"Soldiers moping!" and Fritz laughed.
"Perhaps it isn't the soldiers, but the people crowding to stare at them, who take away the Sunday feeling," continued Priscilla.
"That's just what we are doing ourselves," retorted Martine, "and I don't feel very wicked."
"Come, come, children, don't quarrel," cried Lucian. "You are both probably right, and both probably wrong."
Neither girl replied, for the troops in their brilliant uniforms were beginning their homeward march to the inspiring music of a fine band.
As they walked homeward Martine, slipping her arm through Amy's, drew her one side.
"Tell me," she said, "and please don't let the others hear or they will laugh—is Halifax the capital of Canada?"
"No, my dear, it—"