"You did not think it impertinent, Jack?"
"I don't know what I thought it." And then, as if to avoid need to defend
or explain contradictory statements, he said, "Put yourself in my place.
Suppose I had dared to ask you if ever a man had kissed you--"
"Oh, that's the difference between kissing and being kissed."
"Then put it my way."
"John Penhallow, I should dearly like to box your ears. Once a man did
kiss me. He was tall, handsome, and had the formal courtly manners you
have at times. He was General Winfield Scott. He kissed my hand."
"You minx!" cried John, "you are no better than you used to be. There
goes the bugle!" And laughing as he deserted her, he ran down the hill
and across the parade ground.
"He is not really handsome," said the young woman, "but no man ought to
have so beautiful a mouth--I could have made him do it in a minute. Why
did I not? What's the matter? I merely couldn't. He hasn't the remotest
idea that if he were to kiss me--I--" She reddened at the thought and
went with quick steps of "virgin liberty" to take tea with the
Commandant.
In New York, on his way home, Penhallow received a telegram, "I am third.
John Penhallow." Then the Squire presented Leila with a bracelet, to the
belated indignation of Aunt Ann, who was practising the most disagreeable
economy.
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