So I sat down with them and ate, and it was, or seemed to be, a happy company there before our little hut, with officers and troops passing to and fro and glancing curiously at us, and our Indians squatted behind us all a-row, and shining up knife and hatchet and rifle; and the bugle-horns of the various regiments sounding prettily at intervals, and the fifers and drummers down by the river at distant morning practice.
"You love best the bellowing conch-horn of the rifles," observed Lana to Lois, with a touch of her old-time impudence.
"I?" exclaimed Lois.
"You once told me that every blast of it sets you a-trembling," insisted Lana. "Naturally I take it that you quiver with delight—having some friend in that corps——"
"Lana! Have done, you little baggage!"
"Lord!" said Lana. "'Twas Major Parr I meant. What does an infant Ensign concern such aged dames as you and I?"
Lois, lovely under her mounting colour, continued busy with her porridge. Lana said in my ear:
"She is a wild thing, Euan, and endures neither plaguing nor wooing easily. How I have gained her I do not know.... Perhaps because I am aging very fast these days, and she hath a heart as tender as a forest dove's."
Lois looked up, seeing us whispering together.
"Uncouth manners!" said she. "I am greatly ashamed of you both."