And Eileen, surveying the scene from her perch, thought that Selwyn's
years seemed to depend entirely upon his occupation, for he looked very
boyish down there on his knees among the children; and she had not yet
forgotten the sunken pallor of his features in the Park--no, nor her own
question to him, still unanswered. For she had asked him who that woman
was who had been so direct in her smiling salute. And he had not yet
replied; probably never would; for she did not expect to ask him again.
Meanwhile the bolo-men were rushing the outposts to the outposts'
intense satisfaction.
"Bang-bang!" repeated Winthrop; "I hit you, Uncle Philip. You are dead,
you know!"
"Yes, but here comes another! Fire!" shouted Billy. "Save the flag!
Hurrah! Pound on the piano, Eileen, and pretend it's cannon."
Chord after chord reverberated through the big sunny room, punctuated by
all the cavalry music she had picked up from West Point and her friends
in the squadron.
"We can't get 'em up!
We can't get 'em up!
We can't get 'em up
In the morning!"
she sang, calmly watching the progress of the battle, until Selwyn
disengaged himself from the _melee_ and sank breathlessly into a chair.
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