I had not thought about it till that minute. Something, some thread of the serious, in Miss Cardigan's voice, made me look suddenly at Thorold. He had turned his eyes from me and had bent them upon the fire, all merriment gone out of his face, too. It was thoroughly grave.
"What are you going to do, Mr. Thorold?" I asked.
"Do you remember a talk we had down on Flirtation Walk one day last summer, when you asked me about possible political movements at the South, and I asked you what you would do?"
"Yes," I said, my heart sinking.
"The time has come," he said, facing round upon me.
"And you—?"
"I shall be on my way to Washington in a few days. Men are wanted now—all the men that have any knowledge to be useful. I may not be very useful. But I am going to try."
"I thought"—it was not quite easy to speak, for I was struggling with something which threatened to roughen my voice—"I thought you did not graduate till June?"
"Not regularly; not usually; but things are extraordinary this year. We graduate and go on to Washington at once."