I entered, much wishing that I had left off my uniform, or, still better,
that I had stayed away altogether.

There were present in the great room Daisy, Lady Johnson, a young lady who
was her sister, two children--and a man in civilian's garb, with some few
military touches, such as a belt and sword and a cockade, who sat by the
window, his knees impudently spread apart and his hat on his head. I
looked at this fellow in indignant inquiry.

Daisy came eagerly to me, with an explanation on her lips:

"It is the officer who is to take Lady Johnson to Albany. He insists upon
forcing his presence upon us, and will not suffer us to be alone together
in any room in the house."

"Who are you?--and off with your hat!" I said to the man, sharply.

My uniform was of service, after all. He looked me over, and evidently
remembered having seen me with his colonel, for he stood up and took off
his hat. "I am a lieutenant of the Connecticut line," he said, in a
Yankee snarl, "and I am doing my duty."

"I am a major in the Continental line, and I should be doing _my_ duty if
I sent you back in irons to your colonel," I answered. "Get out of here,
what time Lady Johnson is to remain, and leave these ladies to
themselves!"

He was clearly in two minds about obeying me, and I fancy it was my
superior size rather than my rank that induced him to go, which he did in
as disagreeable a fashion as possible. I made my bow to Lady Johnson, and