quickly. Yet retreat was impossible, and I answered with assumed
carelessness:

"I am, most assuredly, Colonel Curran."

"From Ohio?"

This was certainly coming after me with a vengeance, and I stole one
quick glance at the girl's face. It was devoid of suspicion, merely
evincing a polite interest.

"I have the honor of commanding the Sixth Artillery Regiment from that
State."

"You must pardon me, Colonel, for my seeming inquisitiveness," and her
eyes sparkled with demure mischief. "Yet I cannot quite understand. I
was at school in Connecticut with a Miss Curran whose father was an
officer of artillery from Ohio, and, naturally, I at once thought of
her when the Major pronounced your name; yet it certainly cannot be
you--you are altogether too young, for Myrtle must be eighteen."

I laughed, decidedly relieved from what I feared might prove a most
awkward situation.

"Well, yes, Miss Minor, I am indeed somewhat youthful to be Myrtle's
father," I said at a venture, "but I might serve as her brother, you
know, and not stretch the point of age over-much."

She clasped her hands on my arm with a gesture of delight.