Again the general studied him; and then a light crossed his face.
“I think I see,” he said. “This young officer Camp—and his sister—are somehow responsible for your change of front.”
“Yes,” replied George. “They are my cousins—son and daughter of my mother’s sister.”
“I see, I see. And your desire to have no further hand in the thing is perfectly natural. Ah, well, well—the world is a queer place, indeed—a jumble of causes and desires—of hopes and dreads. But,” with a wave of the hand, “that will be all now. I will replace you in this; however, keep in touch with me—there may be something else in which you may prove more ready.”
Again George saluted; and as he left headquarters he encountered Major Hyde upon the sidewalk. Henderson bore him company; and from the attitude of the two they were awaiting him.
“Well met, sir,” spoke Henderson with a friendly wave of the hand.
“This is my crony, Captain Henderson of Lowney’s City troops,” said Major Hyde, indicating the fop.
“I have met the gentleman before,” answered George, coldly.
Hyde laughed, and exhibited more geniality of manner than George would have given him credit for.
“Oh, come now,” said he. “Don’t bear any hard feelings. Give us both a hand, and let us make a fresh beginning.”