"Of course he's going; so am I," replied Ruyven, striking a careless pose against a pillar.
"On which side, Ruyven?" inquired Dorothy, sorting her silks.
"On my cousin's side, of course," he said, uneasily.
"Which side is that?" asked Cecile.
Confused, flushing painfully, the boy looked at me; and I rescued him, saying, "We'll talk that over when we ride bounds this afternoon. Ruyven and I understand each other, don't we, Ruyven?"
He gave me a grateful glance. "Yes," he said, shyly.
Sir George Covert, a trifle pallid, but bland and urbane, strolled out to the porch, saluting us gracefully. He paused beside Dorothy, who slipped her needle through her work and held out her hand for him to salute.
"Are you also going to the wars?" she asked, with a friendly smile.
"Where are they?" he inquired, pretending a fierce eagerness. "Point out some wars and I'll go to 'em post haste!"
"They're all around us," said Sammy, solemnly.