"Oh, Uncle Jim!"
"The President, I hear, will call for three hundred thousand men—I can stand it no longer—I am eating my heart out. I refused a regiment some time ago; now I shall ask for one. I wrote at once to the Governor."
She leaned over, laid a hand on his arm and said, "Is not one dear life enough?"
"My child, John had to go. I could, of course, find some excuse for not going. I set myself free to-day. But now I am to settle with Ann. Except for that I would be supremely contented. You would not keep me here if you had the power, nor would you bring home John if you could, dear."
"No," she said faintly. Some quickly dismissed suspicion rose to consciousness as he stole a glance at her face. "I understand," she added, "it is a question of honour—you must go."
"It is a question of duty, dear; but what Ann will say I do not know—but
I shall go."
She turned. "Uncle Jim, if you did not go and the war went on to—God alone knows what end—she would be sick with shame. I know. You see I am a woman and I know. She will suffer, but she will not break down again and she will not try to hold you back. But this house without you and John will be rather lonely. How did you get out of the mills, uncle?"
He answered her at length as they rode homeward with more to think of than was pleasant. At the avenue gate she said earnestly, "Don't wait too long before telling Aunt Ann."
"Upon my word, I am sorry," returned the Squire, "for the unfortunate man who may become your husband. If you undertake to offer advice at your tender years, what will you do when you are older?"
"My husband-that-is-to-be sends you his compliments," laughed Leila, "and says—I don't know what he says, but it is exactly the right thing, Captain Penhallow. But really, don't wait, uncle."