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Updated: June 24, 2025
"I think we are what we are," said Elsie; "we are not our great-grandfathers." "In a measure we are, and it should teach us charity. Not as much can be expected of Billy Castant, coming of the stock he does, as you might expect of that ancestry," and Mrs. Valentin nodded toward the formidable Eastern contingent.
Valentin was watching the bishop, whose eyes still rested upon Elsie. "She is to be one of the chosen five, is she? The five wise virgins of the East? But they are all Western virgins this year, I believe." "If you mean that they are all from the Western States, I think you are mistaken, Bishop." "Am I? Let us see. There is Elsie, and Gladys Castant, perhaps, and the daughters of my friend Mr.
Billy Castant has enlisted with the Rough Riders. He was in that fight at Las Guasimas, while we were packing our trunks. He did badly again in his exams, and he he didn't go home; he just enlisted." "The foolish fellow!" Mrs. Valentin exclaimed. A sharp intuition told her there was trouble in the wind, and defensively she turned upon the presumptive cause. "The foolish boy!
His beautiful voice and perfect accent filled the silence with heart-warmed cadences. "Well, good-by, Mrs. Valentin. Remember me to that busy husband." Mrs. Valentin rose; the bishop took her hand. "Elsie will see me to the elevator. This is the evening paper." He offered it with the writing toward her. Mrs. Valentin read what he had written: "Billy Castant was killed in the charge at San Juan.
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