Let the day after tomorrow come soon! Miss Betty hated herself for understanding the adieu, and hated herself more because she could not be sure that, in the startled moment of meeting before she collected herself, she had let it go unanswered.
She had done more than that: without knowing it she had bent her head to his bow, and Mr.Carewe had seen both the salutation and the look.
The young men were gathered near the orchestra, and, to the hilarious strains of "Yankee Doodle," the flag they were to receive for their regiment was borne down the room by the sisters and sweethearts who had made it, all of whom were there, except Fanchon Bareaud.

Crailey had persuaded her to surrender the flag for the sake of spending this evening--next to his last in Rouen--at home alone with him.
The elder Chenoweth made the speech of presentation, that is, he made part of it before he broke down, for his son stood in the ranks of the devoted band.

Until this incident occurred, all had gone trippingly, for everyone had tried to put the day after to-morrow from his mind.

Perhaps there might not have been so many tears even now, if the young men had not stood together so smilingly to receive their gift; it was seeing them so gay and confident, so strong in their youth and so unselfish of purpose; it was this, and the feeling that all of them must suffer and some of them die before they came back.

So that when Mr.Chenoweth, choking in his loftiest flight, came to a full stop, and without disguise buried his face in his handkerchief, Mrs.Tanberry, the apostle of gayety, openly sobbed.