In the meantime, Throg, who was also treated by the doctor, recovered.
He took quite an affectionate leave of the young ensign, and with an
appearance of great friendliness and honesty, promised to interest
himself at headquarters in behalf of the young officer. This somehow
filled Edith with a vague distrust, and dark foreboding, for which she
could neither account, nor excuse herself, nor yet shake off. Thorg had
been exchanged, and he joined his regiment after its return from
Washington City, and before it sailed from the shores of America.

Weeks passed, during which the invalid occupied the sofa in his
room--and Edith was his sole nurse. And then Commodore Waugh, with his
wife, servants and caravan returned to Luckenough.

The old soldier had been "posted up," he said, relative to all that had
transpired in his absence.

There were no words, he declared, to express his admiration of Edith's
"heroism."

It was in vain that Edith assured him that she had not been heroic at
all--that the preservation of Luckenough had been due rather to the
timely succor of the college boys than to her own imprudent resolution.
It did no good--the old man was determined to look upon his niece as a
heroine worthy to stand by the side of Joan of Arc.

"For," said he, "was it not the soul of a heroine that enabled her to
stay and guard the house; and would the college company ever have come
to the rescue of these old walls if they had not heard that she had
resolutely remained to guard them and was almost alone in the house?
Don't tell me! Edith is the star maiden of old St. Mary's, and I'm proud