the length of the column the refrain passed, gradually gaining
in strength and volume, until by the time the rear came opposite the
entrance, the men were shouting with wide open throats:

"Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh! I'm surprised at you."

with a growing emphasis and meaning upon every successive "Oh!"

Barry's face was aflame and his heart hot with furious indignation.
She was not that kind of a girl. She would be humiliated before her
associates. He glanced up at the window but she was gone. The battalion
marched on but Barry still remained, his eyes following the swinging
column, his face still flaming, and his heart hot with indignation.

"Good morning, Captain Dunbar!"

He swung off his horse, and there smiling at him with warm friendliness
was the little V. A. D.

"I'm awfully sorry," began Barry, thinking of the impudent song of his
comrades. "I mean I'm very glad to see you. I just ran in to tell you
how splendidly the coffee went last night. There are a hundred fellows
marching along there that are fine and fit just because of your
kindness, and I'm here to give you their thanks."

Barry felt that he was cutting a rather poor figure. His words came
haltingly and stumblingly. The suggestive music hall ditty was still in
his mind.

"What a splendid band you have," she said, "and how splendidly the men
sing."

"Sing!" cried Barry indignantly. "Oh, yes, they do sing rather well,
don't they?" he added, greatly relieved. "I have only a minute," he
added hurriedly, "but I wanted to see you again, and I wonder if I may
drop you a little note now and then, just to--well, hang it all--just to
keep in touch with you. I don't want you to quite forget me."

"Oh, I won't forget you," she said. The brown eyes looked straight at
him. "You see, after all, my uncle knows you so well. Indeed, he told me
about you. You see, we really are friends, in a way, aren't we?"

"We are indeed, and you are awfully good. Goodbye!"

"Goodbye," she said, "and if I leave here soon, I promise to let you
know."

And Barry rode away, his heart in such a turmoil as he had never known.
In his ears lingered the music of that soft voice, and his eyes saw a
bewildering complexity of dancing ringlets and lustrous glances, until
he drew up at the rear of the column and found himself riding once more
beside his friend, the M. O.

"Congratulations, old man," said the doctor. "She's a blossom, all
right. Cheer up; you may find her bending o