(VALENTINE _laughs and the ladies exchange delighted smiles._)

VALENTINE (_to_ MISS SUSAN). And my other friends, I hope I find them in health? The spinet, ma'am, seems quite herself to-day; I trust the ottoman pa.s.sed a good night?

MISS SUSAN (_beaming_). We are all quite well, sir.

VALENTINE. May I sit on this chair, Miss Phoebe? I know Miss Susan likes me to break her chairs.

MISS SUSAN. Indeed, sir, I do not. Phoebe, how strange that he should think so.

PHOEBE (_instantly_). The remark was humorous, was it not?

VALENTINE. How you see through me, Miss Phoebe.

(_The sisters again exchange delighted smiles_. VALENTINE _is about to take a seat._)

MISS SUSAN (_thinking aloud_). Oh dear, I feel sure he is going to roll the coverlet into a ball and then sit on it.

(VALENTINE, _who has been on the point of doing so, abstains and sits guiltily._)

VALENTINE. So I am dashing, Miss Susan? Am I dashing, Miss Phoebe?

PHOEBE. A--little, I think.

VALENTINE. Well, but I have something to tell you to-day which I really think is rather dashing. (MISS SUSAN _gathers her knitting, looks at_ PHOEBE, _and is preparing to go._) You are not going, ma'am, before you know what it is?

MISS SUSAN. I--I--indeed--to be sure--I--I know, Mr. Brown.

PHOEBE. Susan!

MISS SUSAN. I mean I do not know. I mean I can guess--I mean---- Phoebe, my love, explain. (_She goes out._)

VALENTINE (_rather disappointed_). The explanation being, I suppose, that you both know, and I had flattered myself 'twas such a secret. Am I then to understand that you had foreseen it all, Miss Phoebe?

PHOEBE. Nay, sir, you must not ask that.

VALENTINE. I believe in any case 'twas you who first put it into my head.

PHOEBE (_aghast_). Oh, I hope not.

VALENTINE. Your demure eyes flashed so every time the war was mentioned; the little Quaker suddenly looked like a gallant boy in ringlets.

(_A dread comes over_ PHOEBE, _but it is in her heart alone; it shows neither in face nor voice._)

PHOEBE. Mr. Brown, what is it you have to tell us?

VALENTINE. That I have enlisted, Miss Phoebe. Did you surmise it was something else?

PHOEBE. You are going to the wars? Mr. Brown, is it a jest?

VALENTINE. It would be a sorry jest, ma'am. I thought you knew. I concluded that the recruiting sergeant had talked.

PHOEBE. The recruiting sergeant? I see.

VALENTINE. These stirring times, Miss Phoebe--he is but half a man who stays at home. I have chafed for months. I want to see whether I have any courage, and as to be an army surgeon does not appeal to me, it was enlist or remain behind. To-day I found that there were five waverers.

I asked them would they take the shilling if I took it, and they a.s.sented. Miss Phoebe, it is not one man I give to the King, but six.

PHOEBE (_brightly_). I think you have done bravely.

VALENTINE. We leave shortly for the Petersburgh barracks, and I go to London tomorrow; so this is good-bye.

PHOEBE. I shall pray that you may be preserved in battle, Mr. Brown.

VALENTINE. And you and Miss Susan will write to me when occasion offers?

PHOEBE. If you wish it.

VALENTINE (_smiling_). With all the stirring news of Quality Street.

PHOEBE. It seems stirring to us; it must have been merely laughable to you, who came here from a great city.

VALENTINE. Dear Quality Street--that thought me dashing! But I made friends in it, Miss Phoebe, of two very sweet ladies.

PHOEBE (_timidly_). Mr. Brown, I wonder why you have been so kind to my sister and me?

VALENTINE. The kindness was yours. If at first Miss Susan amused me-- (_Chuckling._) To see her on her knees decorating the little legs of the couch with frills as if it were a child! But it was her sterling qualities that impressed me presently.

PHOEBE. And did--did I amuse you also?

VALENTINE. Prodigiously, Miss Phoebe. Those other ladies, they were always scolding you, your youthfulness shocked them. I believe they thought you dashing.

PHOEBE (_nervously_). I have sometimes feared that I was perhaps too dashing.

VALENTINE (_laughing at this_). You delicious Miss Phoebe. You were too quiet. I felt sorry that one so sweet and young should live so grey a life. I wondered whether I could put any little pleasures into it.

PHOEBE. The picnics? It was very good of you.

VALENTINE. That was only how it began, for soon I knew that it was I who got the pleasures and you who gave them. You have been to me, Miss Phoebe, like a quiet, old-fashioned garden full of the flowers that Englishmen love best because they have known them longest: the daisy, that stands for innocence, and the hyacinth for constancy, and the modest violet and the rose. When I am far away, ma'am, I shall often think of Miss Phoebe's pretty soul, which is her garden, and shut my eyes and walk in it.

(_She is smiling gallantly through her pain when_ MISS SUSAN _returns._)

MISS SUSAN. Have you--is it--you seem so calm, Phoebe.

PHOEBE (_pressing her sister's hand warningly and imploringly_).

Susan, what Mr. Brown is so obliging as to inform us of is not what we expected--not that at all. My dear, he is the gentleman who has enlisted, and he came to tell us that and to say good-bye.

MISS SUSAN. Going away?

PHOEBE. Yes, dear.