er, but which, to accord with
the hour, might more aptly have been designated a breakfast. To afford a
private retreat for the scene of this celebration, they had borrowed the
offices of Gray and Vanrevel, and Crailey hospitably announced that any
guest was welcome to stay for a year or two, since, probably, neither of
the firm would have need of an office for at least that length of time.
Nine men gathered about the table which replaced Tom's work-a-day old
desk: the two Chenoweths, Eugene Madrillon, Marsh, Jefferson Bareaud,
the stout General, Tom Vanrevel, Crailey, and Will Cummings, the editor
coming in a little late, but rubbing his hands cheerfully over what he
declared was to be the last column from his pen to rear its length
on the Journal's front page for many a long day--a description of the
presentation of the flag, a bit of prose which he considered almost
equal to his report of the warehouse fire.

This convivial party made merry and tried to forget that most of them
had "been mighty teary," as Marsh said, an hour earlier; while Mr.
Chenoweth sat with his hand on his son's shoulder, unconsciously most of
the time, apologetically removing, it when he observed it. Many were the
witticisms concerning the difference in rank hence forth to be observed
between the young men, as Tom was now a major, Marsh a captain, Will
Cummings a second lieutenant, and the rest mere privates, except
Crailey, who was a corporal. Nevertheless, though the board was festive,
it was somewhat subdued and absent until they came to the toasts.

It was Tappingham who proposed Miss Betty Carewe. "I know Tom Vanrevel
will understand--nay, I know he's man enough to join us," said Marsh as
he rose. "Why shouldn't I say that we may hail ourselves as patriots,
indeed, since at the call of our country we depart from the town which
is this lady's home, and at the trumpet's sound resign the gracious
blessing of seeing her day by day, and why shouldn't we admit loyally
and openly that it is her image alone which shines in the hearts of most
of us here?"

And no man arose to contradict that speech, which appears to have rung
true, seeing that four of those present had proposed to her (again) that
same evening. "So I give you," cried Tappingham, gallantly, "the
health of Miss Betty Carewe, the loveliest rose of our bouquet! May she
remember us when we come home!"

They rose and drank it with a shout. But Tom Vanrevel, not setting down
his cup, w