"Oh, Sleepy! I think that is just splendid of you," I cried. "When will you go?"
"Ahem—I'm thinking of going on the same boat with Mr.—Sir Arthur Pore."
I could not help laughing.
"Does Annie know?"
"No, I was afraid she might make some objection. I think I'll just surprise her on the steamer."
"Won't you have to get passports and permits and things before you can go?"
"Yes, I'll set the ball rolling as soon as I get to Richmond. Mr. Tucker is attending to Sir Arthur's and I guess I'll go see him as soon as we land. He knows how to do so many things."
That was certainly so. Mr. Jeffry Tucker not only could and would match zephyr for old ladies, but he knew just how to get passports for pompous English noblemen who had but recently kept country stores on the banks of the river, and for the lovely daughters. He also knew how to get rushed-through passports for rich young medical students who had taken sudden resolutions to do a bit in France because of a kind of vicarious patriotism.
George Massie had a busy week. He must rush off to see his people, who no doubt were quite confounded by his unwonted energy. He must get the proper clothing for his undertaking and also make his will, since he had quite an estate in his own name. He must tell many relations farewell and explain as best he could his sudden passion for carrying the wounded off of the battle fields.
When he came in to tell the Tuckers good-by before he went to New York to embark on the steamer with the unsuspecting Pores, he looked almost thin and quite wide awake, so they told me.