“Miss Meredith is very different, then, from a certain gentleman,” remarked Mrs. Washington, laughingly. “I first gained his confidence when he lay wounded at headquarters winter before last; but once his secret was unbosomed, I could not so much as stop to ask how he did but he must begin and talk of nothing but her till he became so excited and feverish that I had to check or leave him for his own good.”
“Indeed, Lady Washington,” protested the girl, her lip trembling in her endeavour to keep back the tears, “once Colonel Brereton may have thought he cared for me, but, I assure you, ’t was but a half-hearted regard, which long since died.”
“’T is thy cruelty killed it, then,” asserted Mrs. Washington, “for, unless my eyes and ears deceived me, never was there more eager lover than—”
“’T is not so; on the contrary, he won my heart and then broke it with his cruelty,” denied the girl, the tears coming in spite of herself. “I pray you forgive my silly tears, and do not speak more of this matter,” she ended.
“I cannot believe it of him,” responded Lady Washington. “But ’t was far from my thought to distress you, and it shall never be spoke of more.”
The subject was instantly dropped; and though Janice saw much of Lady Washington during their three weeks’ stay at the Springs, and a mutual liking sprang up between the two, never again was it broached save at the moment that they set out on their return to Colic, when her new friend, along with her farewell kiss, said, “I, too, shall soon leave the Springs, my dear, and journey ere long to join the general at headquarters for the winter. Have you any message for him?”
“Indeed, but I have,” eagerly cried Janice. “Wilt take him my deepest thanks?”
“And no more?”
“If your ladyship were willing,” said Janice, archly, “I would ask you to take him my love and a kiss.”
“He shall have them, though I doubt not he would prefer such gifts without a proxy,” promised Mrs. Washington, smiling. Then she whispered, “And can I not carry the same to some one else?”