“Well, you'll have to be careful,” said Mrs. Sand, as if with severe intent. “But I don't say discourage him; I wouldn't say that. You may be an influence for good. It may be His will that you should be pleasant to the young man. But don't make free with him. Don't, on any account, have him put his arm round your waist.”
“Nobody has done that to me,” Laura replied austerely, “since I left Putney, and so long as I am in the Army nobody will. Not that Mr. Lindsay” (she blushed again) “would ever want to. The class he belongs to look down on it.”
“The class he belongs to do worse things. The Army doesn't look down on it. It's only nature, and the Army believes in working with nature. If it was Mr. Harris I wouldn't say a word—he marches under the Lord's banner.”
Captain Filbert listened without confusion; her expression was even slightly complacent.
“Well,” she said, “I told Mr. Harris last evening that the Lieutenant and I couldn't go on giving him so much of our time, and he seemed to think he'd been keeping company with me. I had to tell him I hadn't any such idea.”
“Did he seem much disappointed?”
“He said he thought he would have more of the feeling of belonging to the Army if he was married in it; but I told him he would have to learn to walk alone.”
Mrs. Sand speculatively bit her lips.
“I don't know but what you did right,” she said. “By the grace of God you converted him, and he hadn't ought to ask more of you. But I have a kind of feeling that Mr. Lindsay 'll be harder to convince.”
“I daresay.”