ittle embrace in a turn of the dance. It should not
have been done, but if that sweet Sue had known that a very lonely
girl danced in that raven garb of a man, who wanted to hold her close
for her comforting, she would have forgiven it, I feel sure. That Sue
is a young woman of such a good sense that I must forever cherish her.

"Don't do that again, Bobby Carruthers," she said, looking up at me
with a lovely seriousness in her honest young eyes. "I know you are
French, and queer, but--but don't--" After a little she added: "We are
going to be grand friends, aren't we?" "Yes, lovely Sue, and I beg of
you pardon," I answered her with all of the friendliness of Roberta,
Marquise of Grez and Bye, in my eyes and voice, which seemed to give
to her a beautiful satisfaction.

"Good! I'll tell you what let's do. You come by for me to-morrow
afternoon and I'll go with you to the Capitol and I'll beard the
General Lion in his den and ask him to let us be friends, and then
we'll take him out to the Confederate Soldiers' Home for 'flags
down'--it mellowed him so once, when I was about ten, that he let me
trot home beside him holding his hand, though he didn't speak to me
for a week after. Want to?" I did enjoy the mischief in those merry
eyes that I laughed into.

"I'll steal his big car and come and help you--what do you
say?--kidnap my Uncle, the General Robert," I answered her with
delight as I released her into the arms of that Buzz Clendenning
before the fox had been more than half trotted.

"Go pick roses out of your own garden, L'Aiglon," he said as he slid
her away from me.

And for the reason that I was very slightly fatigued and also slightly
warm from being obliged to dance in the very heavy swathings of a
gentleman, when I had been accustomed to the coolness of chiffon and
tulle and thin lace of a lady, I went again into the broad hall and to
the wide window that looked away to those comforting blue hills. Below
me the garden was coming out of a veil of mist as the moon, which was
now very old, came slowly up from behind the dim ridge of hills that
my Uncle the General Robert had told me to be called Paradise Ridge.
All the spring flowers below me seemed to be sending up to me
greetings of perfumes and the tall purple and white lilac flowers
waved plumes of friendliness at me, while large round pink blossoms
that I think are called peonies, nodded and beckoned to me with sweet
countenances. I felt that they were f