e.

"They're at the house, all these men," she said; "and what do you think?
General Schuyler and his lady are to arrive this evening, and I'm to
receive them, dressed in my best tucker!... and there may be others
with them, though the General comes on a tour of inspection, being
anxious lest disorder break out in this district if he is compelled to
abandon Ticonderoga.... What do you think of that--George?"

My name fell so sweetly, so confidently, from her lips that I looked up
in warm pleasure and found her grave eyes searching mine.

"Make it easier for me," she said, in a low voice. "How can I talk to
you if you do not answer me?"

"I--I mean to answer, Dorothy," I stammered; "I am very thankful for
your kindness to me."

"Do you think it is hard to be kind to you?" she murmured. "What
happiness if I only might be kind!" She hid her face in her hands and
bowed her head. "Pay no heed to me," she said; "I--I thought I could
see you and control this rebel tongue of mine. And here am I with heart
insurgent beating the long roll and every nerve a-quiver with sedition!"

"What are you saying?" I protested, miserably.

She dropped her hands from her face and gazed at me quite calmly.

"Saying? I was saying that these rocks are wet, and that I was silly to
come down here in my Pompadour shoes and stockings, and I'm silly to
stay here, and I'm going!"

And go she did, up over the moss and rock like a fawn, and I after her
to the top of the bank, where she seemed vastly surprised to see me.

"Now I pray you choose which way you mean to stroll," she said,
impatiently. "Here lie two paths, and I will take this straight and
narrow one."

She turned sharply and I with her, and for a long time we walked
swiftly, side by side, exchanging neither word nor glance until at last
she stopped short, seated herself on a mossy log, and touched her hot
face with a crumpled bit of lace and cambric.

"I tell you what, Mr. Longshanks!" she said. "I shall go no farther with
you unless you talk to me. Mercy on the lad with his seven-league boots!
He has me breathless and both hat-strings flying and my shoe-points
dragging to trip my heels! Sit down, sir, till I knot my ribbons under
my ear; and I'll thank you to tie my shoe-points! Not doubled in a
sailor's-knot, silly!... And, oh, cousin, I would I had a sun-mask!...
Now you are laughing! Oh, I know you think me a country hoyden, careless
of sunburn and dust! But I'm not. I love