us all. Are you offering your services, sir."

Camilla said quickly, and with gayest confidence: "Uncle has been
looking about casually. There are so many regiments forming, so
many recruiting stations that we--we haven't decided--have we,
uncle?" And she gave Berkley a wistful, harrowing glance that
enlightened him.

He said gravely: "I suppose the average age of these volunteers
will be about eighteen. And if the militia go, too, it will be
comforting for a defenceless city to know she has men of your
experience to count on, Captain Lent."

"_I_ am going to the front," observed the Captain.

"There may be much to be done in New York, sir."

"Then let the police do it," said Captain Lent calmly. "The Union
must and shall be preserved. If any man attempts to haul down the
American flag, shoot him upon the spot. Et cetera, sir, et cetera."

"Certainly. But it's a question of niggers, too, I believe."

"No, sir. It is _not_ a question of niggers. It is a question of
who's at the wheel, Union or State. I myself never had any doubts
any more than I ever doubted the Unitarian faith! So it is no
question for me, sir. What bothers me is to pick out the regiment
most likely to be sent first."

"We've walked our legs off," said Camilla, aside, "and we've been
in all kinds of frightful places where men are drilling and smoking
and swearing and yelling; and I was dreadfully afraid a gun would
go off or somebody would be impudent to uncle. The dear old
thing," she whispered, "he is perfectly sure they want him and that
he has only to choose a regiment and offer his sword. Oh, dear!
I'm beginning to be terribly unhappy--I'm afraid they won't let him
go and I'm deadly afraid they might! And I'm sure that Jim means
to go. Oh, dear! Have you seen Ailsa Paige lately?"

"No. . . . I hope she is quite well."

"You are not very enthusiastic."

"I have every reason to be. She is a very winsome girl."

"She's a dear. . . . She has spoken of you several times."

"That is most amiable of her, and of you to say so."

"Oh, very," laughed Camilla, tossing her pretty head, "but it
evidently does not interest you very much. In fact--" she glanced
sidewise--"it is understood that no woman ever interests you for
more than forty-eight consecutive hours."

"Pure slander, Camilla. _You_ do."

"Oh--not in the way I mean."

"Well, but you don't expect me to be interested in Mrs. Paige--in
the way _you_ mean do