, Barket,
please say to him for me, that--that I--I may have some orders for
him, when we next meet. [_Exit on veranda._

BARKET. Whin they nixt mate. They tell us there is no such thing as
marriage in Hiven. If Miss Jenny and Captain Heartsease mate there,
they'll invint somethin' that's mighty like it. While I was lyin'
wounded in General Buckthorn's house at Washington, last summer, and
ould Margery was taking care of me, Margery tould me, confidentially,
that they was in love wid aitch ither; and I think she was about
right. I've often seen Captain Heartsease take a sly look at a little
lace handkerchief, just before we wint into battle. [_Looks off._]
Here's General Buckthorn himself. He and I must make it as aisy as we
can for Miss Jenny's poor heart.

_Enter_ GENERAL BUCKTHORN.

BUCKTHORN. Sergeant Barket! You haven't started with those girls yet?

BARKET. They're to go in half an hour, sir.

BUCKTHORN. Be sure they do go. Is General Haverill here?

BARKET. Yes, sir; in the house with some of his staff, and the
Surgeon.

BUCKTHORN. Ah! The Surgeon. How is Colonel West, this morning, after
the wound he received last night?

BARKET. He says, himself, that he's as well as iver he was; but the
Colonel and Surgeon don't agray on that subject. The dochter says he
mustn't lave his room for a month. The knife wint dape; and there's
somethin' wrong inside of him. But the Colonel, bein' on the outside
himsilf, can't see it. He's as cross as a bear, baycause they wouldn't
let him go to the front this morning, at the head of his regiment. I
happened to raymark that the Chaplain was prayin' for his raycovery.
The Colonel said he'd court-martial him if he didn't stop that--quick;
there's more important things for the Chaplain to pray for in his
official capacity. Just at that moment the trumpets sounded, "Boots
and Saddles." I had to dodge one of his boots, and the Surgeon had a
narrow escape from the ither one. It was lucky for us both his saddle
wasn't in the room.

BUCKTHORN. That looks encouraging. I think Kerchival will get on.

BARKET. Might I say a word to you, sur, about Miss Jenny?

BUCKTHORN. Certainly, Barket. You and old Margery and myself have been
a sort of triangular mother, so to speak, to the little girl--since
her own poor mother left her to our care, when she was only a baby,
in the old fort on the Plains. [_At his side and unconsciously resting
his arm over_ BARKET'S _shoulder, familiarly. Sud