and went far out of his way to help me on. He blushed proudly when, stopping to mend a pot for the cook at a camp of militia, they inquired if I was his wife.
"No; but she may be yet," said he; "who knows?"
I knew it was no good place for me, and felt some relief when the young man did me this honor. From that moment they set me down for a sweetheart.
"She 's too big for you, my boy," said the general, laughing.
"The more the better," said he; "can't have too much of a good wife."
I said little to him as we rode along. He asked for my address, when I left him, and gave me the comforting assurance that he would see me again. I made no answer, leaving him at a turn where, north of us, I could see the white houses of Wrentham. Kingston was hard by, its fort crowning a hill-top by the river.
It was past three by a tower clock at the gate of the Weirs when I got there. A driveway through tall oaks led to the mansion of dark
