Delaven came in, and there were more explanations; then, to the regret of Raquel and Betsey, they left for the Terrace without partaking of the specially prepared coffee. Col. McVeigh had ridden from the coast with a party of the state guard, who were going to the river fortifications. Seeing his own saddle horse at the gate he had let them go on to the Terrace without him, while he stopped, thinking to find his mother or sister there.
The new mistress of Loringwood listened with an interested expression to this little explanation, and no one would have thought there was any special motive in leaving the horse tied there on the only road he would be likely to come, or that his statement that he traveled with a party of military friends conveyed a distinct message to her of work to be done.
She did not fail to notice that Col. McVeigh was a much handsomer man than the lieutenant had been. He appeared taller, heavier––a stalwart soldier, who had lost none of his impetuousness, and had even gained in self confidence, but for all that the light of boyhood was in his eyes as he looked at her, and she, well satisfied that it was so, rode happily to the Terrace beside him, only smiling when he pointed out a clump of beeches and said he never passed without thinking of the trees at Fontainbleau.
“And,” with a little mocking glance, “do the violets and forget-me-nots also grow among the bushes here?”
“Yes;” and he returned her mocking look with one so deliberate that her eyes dropped, “the forget-me-not is hardy in my land, you know; it lives always if encouraged.”
“Heavens!––will the man propose to me again before we reach the house or have breakfast?” she thought, and concluded it more wise to drop such dangerous topics. Until her expected messenger came she could not quite decide what was to be done or what methods employed.
“Forget-me-nots, is it?” queried Delaven, in strict confidence with himself; “oh, but you’ve been clever, the pair of you, to get so far as forget-me-nots, and no one the wiser;” then aloud he said, “I’ve an idea that the best beloved man on the plantation this day will be the one who announces your coming, Colonel; so if you’ll look after Madame la Marquise––”
And then he dashed ahead congratulating himself on the way he was helping the Colonel.
“It’s well to have a friend at court,” he decided, “and it’s myself may need all I can get––for pill boxes are a bad balance for plantations, Fitz; faith, they’ll be flung to the moon at first tilt.”