"Stop that!" cried Jordan almost fiercely.
"Oh, a thousand pardons, Jordan. I'm so rattled I don't know
what I'm doing or saying. The girl's first name is Laura. Peach,
isn't she?"
"Laura! That's a sweet name," murmured Jordan to himself. His
mind was now running riot, not only with plans to drive Dick Prescott
out of the Army, but also to win the heart of Laura Bentley.
"Hold on, Jord," begged Douglass, halting and leaning against
a post in the veranda structure. "Don't take me to your sister
just yet. Let me get my breath, my nerves, my wits back again."
"Take an hour," advised Jordan laconically. "You need it. Didn't
you know Miss Bentley was Prescott's girl?"
"Yes; but it had slipped my memory. It's mighty hard, when you
come to think of it, to remember the girls of so many hundreds of
fellows," explained Cadet Douglass plaintively.
Ten minutes later Dick and Greg appeared, greeting the ladies.
Mrs. Bentley assented to their going around to the north side
of the porch, whence they could look up the river to the lights
of Newburgh.
"We very nearly had an adventure, Dick," laughed Belle.
"Yes?"
"We very nearly shook hands with Mr. Jordan. It was Laura's quick
cry that saved me, just in the nick of time, from touching hands
with the fellow."
Miss Meade then related their experience, and the discomfiture
of Cadets Douglass and Jordan.
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