"I am afraid all armies have more or less cowards in the ranks," laughed the young surgeon. "Some fellows would never make soldiers if they remained in the service a hundred years. Human nature is human nature the world over, you know."
"I wonder if Dr. Mackey is a brave man," muttered Jack, but nobody paid attention to this question.
The repast over, Harry Powell took his leave, but promised to come again, if possible, before leaving the vicinity. Marion saw him go with genuine regret, and blushed painfully when, on watching him hurry down the road, he suddenly turned and waved his hand toward her.
"Dear, good cousin Harry," she murmured. "How different from St. John!"
Two days passed and nothing of importance occurred to disturb the Ruthven homestead. On the second day St. John called to see Marion, but she excused herself by saying she had a headache, which was true, although the ache was not as severe as it might have been.
As he was leaving the place St. John ran up against Jack, who had been down to the outskirts of the Federal encampment, watching the soldiers drill.
"Hullo, where have you been?" said the spendthrift carelessly.
"Been down watching the Yankees drill," answered Jack.
"It seems to me you take an awful interest in those dirty Yankees," retorted St. John, with a sneer.
"I take an interest in all soldiers."