Just before sunset she had left him and gone to her room to change her
dress for the evening, and Janet's first swoop was upon her brother.
Once before during the exciting day she had had a moment to herself
and him. She had so constantly fanned the flame of his belief in
Blakely's gallantries as even to throttle the sense of gratitude he
felt, and, in spite of herself, that she felt for that officer's
daring and successful services during the campaign. She felt, and he
felt, that they must disapprove of Blakely--must stamp out any nascent
regard that Angela might cherish for him, and to this end would never
in her presence admit that he had been instrumental in the rescue of
his captain, much less his captain's daughter. Hurriedly Janet had
told him what she and Plume had seen, and left him to ponder over it.
Now she came to induce him to bid her tell it all to Angela. "Now
that, that other--affair--seems disproved," said she, "she'll be
thinking there's no reason why she shouldn't be thinking of him," and
dejectedly the Scotchman bade her do as seemed best. Women, he
reasoned, could better read each other's hearts.
And so Janet had gone and had thought to shock, and had most
impressively detailed what she had witnessed--I fear me Janet scrupled
not to embroider a bit, so much is permissible to the "unco guid" when
so very much is at stake. And Angela went on brushing out her
beautiful hair without a sign of emotion. To the scandal of Scotch
maidenhood she seemed unimpressed by the depravity of the pair. To the
surprise of Aunt Janet she heard her without interruption to the
uttermost word, and then--wished to know if Aunt Janet thought the
major would let her send Natzie something for supper.
Whatever the girl may have thought of this new and possible
complication, she determined that no soul should read that it cost her
a pang. She declined to discuss it. She did what she had not done
before that day--went forth in search of Kate Sanders. Aunt Janet was
astonished that her niece should wish to send food to that--that
trollop. What would she have thought could she have heard what passed
a few moments later? In the dusk and the gloaming Kate Sanders was in
conversation on the side veranda with a tall sergeant of her father's
troop. "Ask her?" Kate was saying. "Of course I'll ask her. Why, here
she comes now!" Will it be believed that Sergeant Shannon wished Miss
Angela's permission to "take Punch out for a little exercise," a thing
he had never ventured to ask before, and that Angela Wren eagerly
said, "Yes." Poor Shannon! He did not know that night how soon he
would be borrowing a horse on his own account, nor that two brave
girls would nearly cry their eyes out over it, when they were barely
on speaking terms.