"How is my friend, Misery?" he asked.
"Very miserable, indeed, when I left him this afternoon. He does not enjoy being away from me."
"I dare swear he is not alone in that," laughed Goddard. "Won't you sing again, Miss Newton?"
"Not to-night. Are you, by chance, the Major Goddard whom my friend, John Gurley, is always talking and writing about?"
"Yes; John is in my regiment. We are chums, you know."
"I saw a great deal of Captain Gurley when he was with his aunt, Mrs. Arnold, in November. We had great fun together." Nancy laughed at a passing recollection. "In his last letter he urged me to come to Winchester and make a long-promised visit at my cousins, the Pages."
"Why don't you?" asked Goddard eagerly. "We can give you a very good time there. The officers' mess has organized a weekly hop, although girls are scarce, and I am sure we can arrange some other amusements for you."
"I hesitate to make any definite plans," replied Nancy thoughtfully, "for General Sheridan is likely to skedaddle out of the Valley at any moment, and I would not enjoy being captured by Early."
"We are billed to stay there some time longer," replied Goddard confidently. "The roads are in no condition to move cavalry and artillery. There really is no prospect of our leaving winter quarters until later on."
"In that case I will ask Aunt Metoaca's permission to go."
"I expect to return day after to-morrow, Miss Newton; it would give me great pleasure to escort you to Winchester if you can arrange to go as soon as that."
"I will talk it over with Aunt Metoaca," was Nancy's non-committal reply, and Goddard's face fell.
"May I call and see your aunt?" he pleaded eagerly. "I am sure I can convince her that it is safe for you to make the trip."
"Under your escort," laughed Nancy. In the soft lamplight Goddard caught the witchery of her eyes, and his heart gave a most unaccustomed thump against his ribs. "Take care, sir; you don't know what a grave responsibility you may be assuming."
"I am willing to assume all risks," he answered, a trifle unsteadily. "When can I know that you will go to Winchester?"
Nancy hesitated, and her fingers strayed to a knot of blue ribbon pinned to her gown. Abstractedly she unfastened it, and Goddard's hand closed over the ribbon as she murmured: "Come and see my aunt to-morrow. Our address is 306 C Street."
"I am sorry to interrupt"—Goddard wheeled around as Senator Warren joined them—"but a friend has called for you, Major; he says that you are needed at the War Department."
Goddard slipped the knot of ribbon inside his coat as his eyes traveled past the senator's spare figure to a man standing directly under the hall light. It was Lloyd.
Bidding his host and Mrs. Warren a hasty good-bye, Goddard joined his friend, and they departed at once; so absorbed in conversation neither noticed the sudden hubbub that arose in the room they had just left.
"Quick, Doctor; she has fainted!" gasped Mrs. Warren, and Boyd stepped forward to offer first aid to the silent figure on the floor.
CHAPTER IV
BANQUO'S GHOST
Robert Goddard felt at peace with himself and the world as he strolled down Pennsylvania Avenue on his way to the Capitol the next morning. He had spent most of the night explaining to Secretary Stanton the lay of the land in and about Winchester. Having been on many scouting parties under General Torbet, he was well acquainted with the Shenandoah Valley, that "Garden of Virginia," as it was called.
The Avenue was alive with people, and the army uniform predominated, although numerous congressmen hurried by, intent on dodging the mud holes which dotted the streets, so that they might reach the Capitol with fairly clean boots and trousers.
Goddard stopped before the Kirkwood House to watch with much amusement the efforts of several negroes to drag a one-horse hack out of the mud into which it had sunk up to its hubs. Suddenly the occupant of the carriage opened the door and beckoned to him. Recognizing Mrs. Bennett, Goddard, with a rueful glance at his immaculate boots, floundered through the mud to the side of the carriage.
"Good morning, Major." Mrs. Bennett held forth a slender hand in greeting. "This is a nice predicament; and I have an important engagement at eleven o'clock."
"It is too bad," sympathized Goddard. "Still, the condition of the Avenue is due to a patriotic cause; the passing back and forth of heavy artillery and cavalry all these years has made it like a ploughed field."
"Mud is not confined to this Avenue," sighed Mrs. Bennett. "Last Sunday my carriage stuck in the middle of H Street right in front of St. John's Church, and my husband had to carry me to the sidewalk."
"May I do the same now?" inquired Goddard quickly.
Mrs. Bennett hesitated; Goddard's fine physique looked quite equal to the strain of carrying her slight form, but she was not at all certain her husband would approve.
"You are very kind, Major, but——" she began dubiously. "Oh, here is Colonel Bennett." A tall soldierly man of middle age strode up to the carriage. "My dear, you have arrived just in time to rescue poor me. Major Goddard, my husband. The major has just volunteered to carry me through the mud, Charles."
"Much obliged to you, sir," exclaimed Bennett heartily. "I was passing, and recognized my coachman, so concluded my wife was stuck again. Now, Cora, stand on the step, and I will carry you over to the hotel." And in a few seconds, with Goddard's assistance, Mrs. Bennett was safely deposited on the sidewalk.
"It was a shame, Major, that you had to leave Mrs. Warren's so early in the evening." Mrs. Bennett straightened her clothes as best she could, while she waited for her husband to return from giving directions to the driver of the stalled carriage. "I hope it was no bad news that took you away?"
"Oh, no; Captain Lloyd came to tell me that I was wanted at the department. I am afraid I must be running along, Mrs. Bennett. Will you excuse me?"
"Why, certainly, Major. Many thanks for offering to assist me. I hope you will come and see me before you leave."
Thanking her for the invitation, Goddard bade Mrs. Bennett and her husband a hasty good-bye, and resumed his interrupted stroll down the Avenue. At the corner of John Marshall Place, he saw two ladies waiting by the curb. As the younger turned toward him, he recognized Nancy, and saw the inevitable Misery sitting close at her side. Quickening his steps, he hastened across the street and joined her.
"This is better luck than I hoped for," he said, his eyes lightening with pleasure. "I planned to call at your house on my return from the Capitol, but now. … "
"Aunt Metoaca," Nancy smiled demurely as she extricated her hand from Goddard's eager clasp, "may I present Major Goddard? The major has most kindly offered to escort me to Winchester, as I told you last night."
Miss Metoaca Newton inspected Goddard keenly as she returned his low bow. First impressions counted with her. Goddard was also taking stock of Miss Metoaca. He decided in his own mind he had never seen a more angular frame, nor so large a nose as her physiognomy presented.
"I hope you have given your consent to Miss Newton's trip?" he asked eagerly.
"Yes and no." Miss Metoaca's voice surprised him by its thin treble. It did not seem possible that so little sound could come out of so big a cavity. "I don't hold with so much gadding about. 'Twasn't so when I was a girl, fifty-odd years ago. The way women run hither and yon after Tom, Dick, and Harry is surprising. I declare