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 of biscuit she was carrying and handed the soldier a note Mistress Lindsley had written as a pass.

The man read it, scratched a puzzled head, stared again at the note, and shook his head dubiously. "Ye had best leave the package with me, and I will take it up later, myself. They like not young females traipsing around the grounds!" he said.

Mehitable drew herself up. "Sir!" she said grandly.

"Nay," the soldier shook his head phlegmatically. She might have as well spoken to the stormy sunset in the west. "Nay—ye had best leave the package with me, and I"

"Nay!" Mehitable shook her head.

"—I will take it up later, myself. They like not young females traipsing around the grounds!" he repeated. "I will be off duty soon," he added unexpectedly.

This, of course, would have been acceptable to Mehitable had she not desired a closer view of the Ford mansion.

"That will not do at all!" she said firmly now. She was ready to stamp her feet between vexation and impatience. "The—the biscuit"—she had a happy thought—"the biscuit are to be served at His Excellency's table for supper, and of course, ye might not get them there in time!" She smiled brilliantly. But it was all wasted, for the guard,