CHAPTER II
A YOUNG SOLDIER
The Colonel started up and Uncle Cesar rushed in from the hall, followed by Aunt Tulip from the kitchen. Betty managed to disengage her skirts from the spurs of the young officer, and then stood upon her feet, utterly bewildered. The only person who was not panic-stricken was the young officer himself, who stood bowing, cap in hand.
“Pray excuse me,” he said to Betty, and bowing low to her and then to the Colonel. “Just as I was about to enter the room, I saw that you were tottering, and ran forward and caught you just in time. I am afraid you would have had a bad fall, otherwise.”
“You are perfectly excusable, sir,” said the Colonel, rising grandly. “Your advent was most fortunate, as, although I saw my granddaughter’s danger, I had not the agility, with my years and rheumatism, to catch her as you did. May I ask to whom I am indebted?”
“I am Mr. Fortescue,” said the young officer, laying a card down on the table, “of the United States Army, and the son of Mr. Fortescue of Rosehill.”
Betty’s quick eyes read the card as it lay on the table. “Lieutenant John Hope Fortescue, United States Army.”
At that the Colonel’s face changed a little. He had not yet grown used to the name of Fortescue of Rosehill. But Betty did not mind. She saw only that Mr. Fortescue was young and had a fine, supple figure and a pair of laughing eyes like her own, and a trim little black mustache and a close-cropped black head and a very graceful manner.