At Mrs. Brennan's request we breakfasted together yesterday morning,
but I believe he is at the other end of the lines to-day."
We sat down upon a bank, our conversation drifting back to their
uneventful ride northward, and later to our experiences during those
last weeks of war. I have often reflected since on the vivid contrast
we must have made while resting there, each holding the rein of his
horse, our animals as widely differing in appearance as ourselves. Both
were typical of the two services in those last days. Caton was attired
in natty uniform, fleckless and well groomed, his linen immaculate, his
buttons gleaming, the rich yellow stripes of his arm of the service
making marked contrast with the blue he wore and the green he sat upon.
I, on the other hand, was haggard from hard, sleepless service and
insufficient food, my shapeless old slouch hat and dull gray jacket
torn and disfigured, the marks of rank barely discernible.
But his manly, hopeful spirit reawakened my courage, and for the time I
forgot disaster while listening to his story of love and his plans for
the future. His one thought was of Celia and the Northern home so soon
now to be made ready for her coming. The sun sank lower into the
western sky, causing Caton to draw down his fatigue cap until its
glazed visor almost completely hid his eyes. With buoyant enthusiasm he
talked on, each word drawing me closer to him in bonds of friendship.
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