"No," replied Mrs. Mackenzie. Her lips did not move, but her eyes smiled.
"He's handsome," said Beatrice, dispassionately. "I've lived at all the posts—Fort Wayne, Detroit, and Fort Mackinac, and he's the best-looking soldier I've seen. I'd like to paint his picture, if he'd let me."
"I'll ask him, dear; I think he'll let you."
"Aunt Eleanor!" cried Beatrice, reproachfully.
"Why not?"
"Oh—because. Where are those soldiers going, Aunty?"
Mrs. Mackenzie looked out of the window and saw half a dozen men in the boat belonging to the Fort, headed up-stream.
"They're going fishing, I guess. I'll have to go away a little while this afternoon, Bee. Mrs. Burns is sick and she needs me—you won't mind, will you? I'll leave the table all set, and I'll surely be back before dark. Are you afraid to be left alone?"
"No. I'm not afraid of anything; but where is Cousin Rob?"