"Well, that's a fact," he laughed. "Hanged if I'm not losing all my
social polish." He gallantly removed his hat, bowed gravely to the cedar
stick, and shook its hand. "Charmed to make your acquaintance, Miss
Susan, believe me. My own name is Morrison--Lieutenant-Colonel
Morrison--at your service." He turned to the little mother with a smile
that showed a row of white and even teeth. "And now," he said, "since we
are all informally introduced, suppose we have a quiet, comfortable
chat." He paused, but she made no answer. "Well? Aren't you going to ask
me to have some breakfast?"

Virgie cast a troubled gaze into the plate before her.

"Er--no, sir."

"What? Why not?"

She faltered, and answered slowly:

"'Cause--'cause you're one of the damn Yankees."

"Oh! oh! oh!" exclaimed the soldier, shocked to hear a baby's lips
profaned. "Little girls shouldn't use such words. Why, Virgie!"

She raised her eyes, clear, fearless, filled with vindicating innocence.

"Well, it's your _name_, isn't it? _Everybody_ calls you that."

"Um--yes," he admitted, striving to check the twitching of his lips; "I
suppose they do--south of Washington. But don't you know we are just
like other people?" She shook her head. "Oh, yes, we are. Why, _I_ have