She heard his steps become slower and pause at
the gate, and then almost in shame in being guilty of too marked
discourtesy, she turned to speak, but hesitated in surprise, for
now she recognized his equipment as a soldier.
"Why, Mr. Jarvis, where are you going?" she exclaimed.
A dull red flamed through the bronze of his thin cheeks as he
replied awkwardly, "I thought I'd take a turn in the lines around
Boston."
"Oh, yes," she replied, mischievously, "take a turn in the lines.
Then we may expect you back by corn-husking?"
He was deeply wounded, and in his embarrassment could think of no
other reply than the familiar words, "'Let not him that girdeth on
his harness boast himself as he that putteth it off.'"
"I can't help hoping, Mr. Jarvis, that neither you nor others will
put it off too soon--not, at least, while King George claims to be
our master. When we're free I can stand any amount of boasting."
"You'll never hear boasting from me, Miss Susie;" and then an
awkward silence fell between them.
Shyly and swiftly she raised her eyes.
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