Dor. Well said, my noble major. Some day a fascinating little woman will cross your path who won't say “nay” to your devotion. I hope it will be some one that I shall know, Pinky, for I shall love her with my whole heart. When the war is over and Roger comes back—he will come back, won't he, Pinky?
Potts. Indeed he will. Never doubt his loyalty, and some day you will have your reward. Roger is under a heavy cloud, but penetrated by the warmth of your love it will in time disperse. Then, Miss Dorothy, you will say “good-by” to tears, and revel in the happiness and sunshine about you.
Dor. Pinky, you were wrongly named. You are true blue every time. (Goes to window.) Pinky, come here. Do you see that man walking with the Colonel and Mrs. Graham? That is Mr. Randolph Newcomb—and—I don't like him.
Potts (looking over her shoulder). What, that beastly cad? don't blame you.
(Enter Ruth Graham.)
Ruth. Good-morning, major. Ah, Dorothy, you here? What a glorious morning for a ride. I see you have taken advantage of it. But major, your appearance indicates a mishap—nothing serious, I hope?
Dor. (looking at Potts and laughing). He made a thrilling leap, but missed the mark. O Ruth, I wish you could have seen his lordship ignominiously turning a somersault in the mire. Don't be surprised, if the next news that you hear is that Major Pinkerton Potts, formerly officer in the Union Army, had reached the zenith of success, and was now dazzling all Europe by his acrobatic feats. Pinky, don't forget your old friends when fortune smiles upon you, and (mock courtesy) send us a box. (All laugh.)
(Enter Colonel and Newcomb; Colonel leaning upon Newcomb's arm, very weak. Leans against door.)
Col. Yes, Newcomb, I must rejoin my regiment to-day. No more holidays for me. The wound is healing. Back again with my men, breathing the atmosphere of patriotism, strength will return to me. Ah, Newcomb, a glorious cause. I wish you were on our side.