"
"But why does he stand so, Preston?"
"Stand how?" said Preston, unsympathisingly. "That is good
standing."
"Why, with his shoulders up to his ears," I said; "and his
arms lifted up as if he was trying to put his elbows upon a
high shelf. It is _very_ awkward."
"They all stand so," said Preston. "That's right enough."
"It is ungraceful."
"It is military."
"Must one be ungraceful in order to be military?"
"_He_ isn't ungraceful. That is Percival — of South Carolina."
"The officer yesterday stood a great deal better," I went on.
"Yesterday? That was Blunt. He's a Yankee."
"Well, what then, Preston?" I said, laughing.
"I despise them!"
"Aren't there Yankees among the cadets?"
"Of course; but they are no count — only here and there
there's one of good family. Don't you have anything to do with
them, Daisy — mind; — not with one of them, unless I tell you
who he is."
"With one of whom? what are you speaking of?"
"The cadets."
"Why, I have nothing to do with them," I said.
Pages:
426
427
428
429
430
431
432
433
434
435
436
437
438
439
440
441
442
443
444
445
446
447
448
449
450