nt as she came away--all
was so orderly, so cheery; the men seemed so content with their
surroundings, so pleased that "the colonel" (never did they forget his
volunteer title) should come to see them. She owned that--yes--they
looked very--decent _now_, but--but, it was only the first step; it was
what it all _led_ to, said she, that made it so dangerous, so dreadful!
Indeed, the mere fact that all was so well ordered made it, presumably,
to Priscilla's mind, all the more alluring and terrible. It was the
devil's way always, she had been taught--imperceptible, inviting,
insidious. Priscilla prayed long that night and pondered. She had almost
decided on a campaign of conquest and overthrow, when the new commander
came, and in Colonel Stone she found an obstacle quite as firm as Uncle
Will--and far less tolerant.

Meantime, however, Priscilla had organized her "Soldiers' Advancement
Association"; had started in a vacant set of quarters a rival to the
Canteen, where even better coffee and sandwiches could be had and much
more improving conversation, but no beer, and Priscilla was presently in
the seventh heaven; so many soldiers came she had to send for more seats
and more supplies. Every evening after dinner, putting behind her the
unworthy, if worldly, impulse to go and join in the music or the dance,
Priscilla met her martial friends and pupils, learned their soldier
names, something of their history and much of their needs. The chaplain
at first was quite assiduous in his attendance, but the chaplain, she
speedily decided, was slow, prosy, unconvincing. He did not seem to
_stir_ them as they should be stirred, and when one night the kindly old
gentleman failed to come, and his goodwife sent word she feared her
husband had caught a heavy cold, Priscilla took the Word, as the French
would say; read the chapter of her choice; expounded vehemently after
the manner of her favorite exhorters, and came home radiant. No less
than six of the men had come to her to thank her for her soul-stirring
words, and to say that if they had had such teaching as that in their
past they would never have brought sorrow to a mother's heart, as some
of them feared they had. Uncle Will's eyebrows went up significantly
when Priscilla named her converts, and once or twice, as he sat writing
to Blake that night in his little den, sounds as of irrepressible
chuckling came from that sanctum, and Marion slipped in to say a word of
caution. Priscilla