people. Mr. Arrelsford is there in one of the offices, and ever since I – I refused him, you know how he has treated me! If I had applied for anything there, it would have been refused at once, and he would have got them to order Captain Thorne away right off. I know he would – why, that is where his orders came from!”
“But, my dear – ”
“That is where they came from. Isn’t it lucky I got that commission to-day. There’s the bell; I wonder who it can be?” She stopped and listened while the door opened and Jonas, the butler, entered. “Is it Captain Thorne?” asked Edith eagerly.
“No, ma’am.”
“Oh!”
“It’s another offisuh, ma’am. He says he’s fum de President an’ he’s got to see Miss Edith pussonally.”
Jonas extended a card which, as he spoke, Edith took and glanced at indifferently.
“Lieutenant Maxwell,” she read.
“Ask the gentleman in, Jonas,” said Mrs. Varney.
“It’s come,” whispered Edith to her mother.
“Do you know who he is?”
“No – but he’s from the President – it must be that commission.”
At this moment old Jonas ushered into the drawing-room a very dashing young officer, handsome in face, gallant in bearing, and dressed in a showy and perfectly fitting uniform, which was quite a contrast to the worn habiliments of the men at the front. Mrs. Varney stepped forward a little, and Lieutenant Maxwell bowed low before her.
“Good-evening, ma’am. Have I the honour of addressing Miss Varney?”
“I am Mrs. Varney, sir.”
“Madam,” said the Lieutenant, “I am very much afraid this looks like an intrusion on my part, but I come from the President, and he desires me to see Miss Varney personally.”
“Any one from the President could not be otherwise than welcome, sir. This is my daughter. Edith, let me present Lieutenant Maxwell.”
The young Lieutenant, greatly impressed, bowed profoundly before her, and taking a large brown envelope from his belt, handed it to her.
“Miss Varney,” he said, “the President directed me to deliver this into your hands, with his compliments. He is glad to be able to do this, he says, not only at your request, but because of your father and for the merits of the gentleman in question.”
“Oh, thank you,” cried the girl, taking the envelope.
“Won’t you be seated, Lieutenant Maxwell?” said Mrs. Varney.
“Yes, do,” urged the girl, holding the envelope pressed very tightly to her side.
“Nothing would please me so much, ladies,” answered the Lieutenant, “but I must go back to the President’s house right away. I’m on duty this evening. Would you mind writing me off a line or two, Miss Varney, just to say you have received the communication?”
“Why, certainly, you want a receipt. I’ll go upstairs to my desk; it won’t take a moment. And could I put in how much I thank him for his kindness?”
“I am sure he would be more than, pleased,” smiled Lieutenant Maxwell, as Edith left the room and hastened up the stairs.
“We haven’t heard so much cannonading to-day, Lieutenant,” said Mrs. Varney. “Do you know what it means?”
“I don’t think they are quite positive, ma’am, but they can’t help looking for a violent attack to follow.”
“I don’t see why it should quiet down before an assault.”
“Well, there is always a calm before a storm,” said the Lieutenant. “It might be some signal, or it might be they are moving their batteries to open on some special point of attack. They are trying every way to break through our defences, you know.”
“It’s very discouraging. We can’t seem to drive them back this time.”
“We’re holding them where they are, though,” said Maxwell proudly. “They’ll never get in unless they do it by some scurvy trick; that’s where the danger lies. We are always looking out for it, and – ”
At this moment Edith Varney reëntered the room. She had left her hat upstairs with the official-looking envelope, and had taken time to glance at a mirror and then to thrust a red rose in her dark hair. The impressionable young Lieutenant thought she looked prettier than ever.
“Lieutenant Maxwell,” she said, extending a folded paper, “here is your receipt – ”
The butler’s words to some one in the hall interrupted her further speech.
“Will you jes’ kin’ly step dis way, suh!” she heard Jonas say, and as Edith turned she found herself face to face with Captain Thorne!
CHAPTER III
ORDERS TO CAPTAIN THORNE
On the sleeves of Captain Thorne’s coat the insignia of a Captain of Confederate Artillery were displayed; his uniform was worn, soiled, and ill-fitting, giving honourable evidence of hard service; his face was pale and thin and showed signs of recent illness, from which he had scarcely recovered. In every particular he was a marked contrast to Lieutenant Maxwell.
“Miss Varney,” he said, bowing low.
“We were expecting you,” answered Edith, giving her hand to Thorne. “Here’s Captain Thorne, mamma!”
Mrs. Varney shook hands with him graciously while her daughter turned once more to the other man, with the acknowledgment of the order, which she handed to him.
“I wasn’t so very long writing it, was I, Lieutenant Maxwell?” she asked.
“I’ve never seen a quicker piece of work, Miss Varney,” returned that young man, putting the note in his belt and smiling as he did so. “When you want a clerkship over at the Government offices, you must surely let me know.”
“You would better not commit yourself,” said Edith jestingly; “I might take you at your word.”
“Nothing would please me more,” was the prompt answer. “All you have got to do is just apply, and refer to me, of course.”
“Lots of the other girls are doing it,” continued Edith half-seriously. “They have to live. Aren’t there a good many where you are?”
“Well, we don’t have so many as they do over at the Treasury. I believe there are more ladies over there than men. And now I must go.”
“A moment,” said Mrs. Varney, coming forward with Thorne. “Do you gentlemen know each other?”
Captain Thorne shook his head and stepped forward, looking intently at the other.
“Let me have the pleasure of making you acquainted, then. Captain Thorne – Lieutenant Maxwell.”
Thorne slowly inclined his head. Maxwell also bowed.
“I have not had the pleasure of meeting Captain Thorne before, although I have heard of him a great many times,” he said courteously.
“Yes?” answered the other, who seemed to be a man of few words.
“In fact, Captain, there is a gentleman in one of our offices who seems mighty anxious to pick a fight with you.”
“Really!” exclaimed Captain Thorne, smiling somewhat sarcastically; “pick a fight with me! To what office do you refer, sir?”
“The War Office, sir,” said Lieutenant Maxwell, rather annoyed, he could not exactly say why.
“Dear, dear!” continued Thorne urbanely; “I didn’t suppose there was anybody in the War Office who wanted to fight!”
“And why not, sir?” asked Lieutenant Maxwell haughtily, while Edith barely stifled a laugh, and her mother even smiled.
“Well,