"Oh, do not give up hope yet," was the passionate response, as with pale face and quivering lip she led the way to their own room.
CHAPTER III.
An evening or two later, a carriage containing Sir George and Lady Head drew up at a little mansion in the West end, the residence of the retired general, Sir Charles Menzies. The house was not brilliantly illuminated, a subdued light gleaming only in a few of the windows. Evidently there would not be many guests that night. As they entered, the wide door in the deep archway was thrown open, and they were ushered into the drawing-room, where the General and his wife awaited their arrival.
"Just ourselves," exclaimed their host gaily; "a lonely old couple who have the selfishness to desire you to dine with them en famille, before they send you to the wars again."
"It is very kind of you," was the cordial response. "We are both of us delighted to come. But about the wars, General, I am afraid there are no more wars for me. It is just crossing the ocean to establish a garrison, and I assure you that I would rather command a troop and fight the enemy, than perform my allotted task."
"Still, it is all in your country's service, Colonel; and it sometimes needs greater courage to build a rampart than to fight a battle."
"You may well say that, General. Don't know but what my own case is an instance. It is a cut through the back country with only a couple of companies for a following, as though one were sneaking through the bush to escape the foe. After all, that is what it really is; for we could not in safety carry our garrison stores by the lakes."
"Yet you may have more than one brush with the enemy before you get there."
"If we do it will be all the merrier," returned Sir George with a laugh. "These Yankees are giving us as much as we can carry just now, and possibly there may be fighting on Georgian Bay before it ends."
"How soon do you sail, Sir George?" Lady Menzies asked.