Part 14 (2/2)

”Don't you know him, Sue?” demanded the farmer, when he had tantalized her as long as the circ.u.mstances would warrant.

”Why, of course I don't, father!” stammered the Virginia maiden.

”Look in his face, and see if you can't tell,” persisted Mr. Raynes.

”How absurd, father!”

”Absurd, child? Not at all absurd! Haven't you his picture in the house?

And, if I mistake not, you have looked at it as many as three times a day for the last year.”

”Now, father, you are too bad! I haven't done anything of the sort,”

protested Sue, pouting and twisting her shoulders as any country girl, who had not been trained in a satinwood seminary, would have done under such trying circ.u.mstances. ”You don't mean to say that is Allan Garland?”

added she, her pretty face lighting up with an expression of intense satisfaction.

”But I do, Sue,” replied Mr. Raynes with emphasis.

”Why, Allan! I am so glad to see you! I was afraid I should never see you!” exclaimed Sue, rus.h.i.+ng up to the young man, and extending both her hands, which he felt compelled to accept.

He was fearful that she would kiss him; and, though he would have been under obligations to submit to the infliction, he was not sure that the operation would not cause him to faint. Fortunately for him, Sue was reasonable in her behavior; and he escaped cheaper than he expected, when he beheld the impetuous charge which the maiden made upon him. If he had really been Allan Garland, his reception would have been entirely proper, and highly creditable to the affectionate nature of the Virginia damsel.

He was not the young gentleman from Alabama; and he felt as though he had been flanked on both sides, with no chance to beat off the enemy in front, or to run away in the rear. He was only a short distance from a line of rebel sentinels, and he did not consider it prudent to escape by taking to his legs. He did not wear his fighting socks at this time, and felt that it would be no disgrace to run away from such an enemy as that which confronted him.

”I am very glad to see you, Allan,” repeated Sue, as the wretched young man did not venture to use his tongue.

”Thank you, thank you, Miss Raynes!” said he at last, when silence seemed even more dangerous than speech.

”Miss Raynes! Dear me, Allan, how very formal and precise you are! You called me Sue in your letters.”

”Did I? Well, I didn't know it,” replied Somers with a stroke of candor not to be expected under the circ.u.mstances.

”Certainly you did. I don't think you ever mentioned such a person as Miss Raynes.”

”I am confident I didn't,” added he with another touch of candor. ”But I will always call you Sue hereafter, when I have occasion to speak to you.”

”Thank you, Allan! You begin to sound a little like yourself.”

Somers was very glad to hear it, but wished he had been five miles off, even if it had been in the very jaws of the Fourth Alabama.

”You don't look a bit like your photograph,” continued Sue, gazing with admiration at the face of the young man; for which those who ever saw Lieutenant Somers will cheerfully pardon her.

”Do you think so?”

”I'm sure you don't.”

<script>