“Not at all,” said Louis, “they need never know but that our engagement antedated their invitation. Don’t give yourself any uneasiness about that.”
When they had gone on a few moments in silence, Louis said in his pleasant voice, which even in the darkness indicated that he was smiling:
“Well, you had your little triumph this evening!”
“I did,” returned Margaret, with a soft, little laugh, “and I must say I enjoyed it. But I was wondering how he happened to know General Morton.”
“Oh, I dare say they were chums in the United States Army, before the war,” said Louis. “Only think what a chance that man threw away! Why, if he had remained in the Union army he might have been a Major-General by this time.”
“He is a Major-General, I think,” said Margaret, demurely; “or is it only a Brigadier?”
“You impertinent little rebel!” said Louis. “How dare you say that to me? How do you know I will submit to such audacity? You make heavy draughts upon my clemency.”
“I’m afraid I do,” said Margaret; “but I’ve always had them generously honored. But while we are on the subject, there’s one thing that I do want to say to you. Do you know, I have observed that your brother never gives General Reardon his title? In speaking of him to me or Cousin Eugenia, he always says ‘your cousin,’ and in speaking to him he avoids calling him anything at all. Once only, when he had to say something, he called him ‘Mr. Reardon.’ He did indeed!”
“Well, in point of fact, you know,” said Louis, rather uncomfortably, “he’s got no more right to the title of General than you have. The point has been definitely decided. It is only a matter of courtesy.”
“I don’t know who had the power to decide it,” Margaret said; “but we are not considering the point of legal right. Its being, as you admit, a matter of courtesy, should settle the thing, I think. Don’t you?”