because I did
not know you aright. Peggy, see how light-hearted you have made me.
Our merriment hath caused Colonel Dayton to give us unusual
attention."

Peggy glanced at the officer. He had been watching the drill, but
several times had turned to look at them. As the drill ended he came
slowly toward them.

"You seem quite happy this morning," he observed. Something in his
manner struck the girl with foreboding.

"Yes, colonel," answered Clifford. "I had an attack of the blues, but
my cousin hath charmed them away. We were trying to imagine me an
American."

"We should welcome you, sir," spoke the colonel courteously. "May I
speak to you a moment, captain?"

Clifford rose instantly.

"It hath come then?" he asked quietly.

"Yes," answered the colonel huskily. "It was hard to break in upon
your mirth, but I thought you would prefer to have me tell you than to
hear it from another."

"You are most kind, sir." The youth's voice trembled ever so little.
"We were too merry, my cousin. 'Against ill chances men are ever
merry. But heaviness foreruns the good event.'" His tones were steady
as he finished the quotation, and he added: "I am ready at any time."

But at this Peggy uttered a cry.

"Now? Oh, that would be inhuman! Surely not now?"

"Nay," said Colonel Dayton, alarmed by her paleness. "'Tis not as you
think, child. He goes to the guard-house now. The sentence will not be
carried out until to-morrow morning."

"'Tis so sudden," she protested piteously.

"Nay, Peggy, it hath been too long deferred," demurred Clifford. "'Tis
well to have the anxiety and suspense over. You must not give way."

"But what can I do, Clifford? Thee has no one but me to do for thee.
How can I comfort thee?"

"Dear little cousin," he said softly, "you have done much already.
Think what these last weeks would have been for me had you not stayed
here. Be brave a little longer. The colonel will let me see you
again."

"Yes," said Colonel Dayton briefly.

And Peggy was left alone. Alone! With wide, unseeing eyes she stared
at a patch of green grass in front of her where ox-eyed daisies grew
like golden stars. Alone! Harriet had not come, as Peggy had been
hoping she would. And her father! Could he not get leave? Alone!
Alone! What comfort could she, a mere girl, be to her cousin in this
trying hour?

Far afield the milkweed nodded a soft welcome to the butterflies
winging, like flying flowers, over the fields. A bumbleb