yes. He was sure of it. The big exciting thing was that he had made a thrilling discovery in the midst of that insane panic. He was in love for the first time in life foolishly and madly in love. Fighting and elbowing his way through that throng of desperate terror-stricken men and horses it had come to him in a flash that life was sweet and precious because Betty Winter was in it. The more he thought of it the more desperate became his determination not to be killed until he could see and tell her. Through every moment of his wild scramble through woods and fields and crowded road, up that tree and down again, his heart was beating her name:

"Betty Betty-Betty!"

What a blind fool he had been not to see it before! She, too, had been blind. It was all clear now-this mysterious power that had called them from the first, neither of them knowing or understanding.

When Betty took his note from the maid's hand her eyes could see nothing for a moment. She turned away that Peggy should not catch her white face. She knew instinctively the message was from John Vaughan. It may have been written with his last breath and sent by a friend. She broke the seal with slow, nervous dread, looked quickly, and laughed aloud when she had read, a joyous, half hysterical little laugh.

"The man's waiting for an answer, Miss," the maid said.

Betty looked at her stupidly, and blushed:

"Why, of course, Peggy, in a moment tell him." She wrote half a page in feverish haste, telling him how happy she was to know that he had safely

returned, read it over twice, flushed with anger at her silly confusion and tore it into tiny bits. She tried again, but afraid to trust herself, spread John's note out and used it for a model,

"MY DEAR MR. VAUGHAN:

"Certainly, as soon as you can call.

"BETTY WINTER.”

And then she sat down by her window and listened to the splash of the rain against the glass, counting the minutes until he should ring her door bell.

And when at last he came, she had to stand before her clock and count the seconds off for five minutes lest she should disgrace herself by rushing down stairs.

Their hands met in a moment of awkward silence. The play of mind on mind had set each heart pounding. The man of easy speech found for the first time that words were difficult.

"You've heard the black news, of course," he stammered.

Her eyes caught the haggard drawn look of his face with a start.

"You saw it all?" she asked.

"I saw so much that I can never hope to forget it," he answered bitterly.

He led her to a seat and she flushed with the sudden realization that he had been holding her hand since the moment they met. She drew it away with a quick, nervous movement, and sat down abruptly.

"Was it really as bad as it looks to-day?" she asked with an attempt at conventional tones.

"Worse, Miss Betty. You can't imagine the sickening shame of it all. I was never in a battle before. I wouldn't mind repeating that experience at close quarters-but the panic

"The President is the coolest and most courageous man in the country to-day," she put in eagerly. "It's inspiring to talk to him."

A bitter speech against a Commander-in-Chief who could allow himself to be driven into a battle by the chatter of fools rose to his lips, but he remembered her admiration and was silent. He fumbled at his watch chain and pulled the corner of his black moustache with growing embarrassment. The thing was more difficult than he had dreamed.

"I have resigned from the paper," he said at last. "Resigned?" she repeated mechanically.

"Yes. I'm going back home to-night and help raise a company in answer to the President's proclamation." The room was very still. Betty turned her eyes toward the window and listened to the splash of the wind driven rain.

"To your

home town?" she faltered.

"Yes. To Palmyra."

"Where your brother went to raise a company to fight us-strange, isn't it?" Her voice had a faraway sound as if she were talking to herself.

"Yes-to fight us," he repeated in low tones. Again a silence fell between them. He looked steadily into her brown eyes that were burning now with a strange intensity, tried to speak, and failed. He caught the gasp of terror in the deep breath with which she turned from his gaze.

"My chief was bitter against my going-I-I hope

you approve-Miss Betty?" He spoke with pauses which betrayed his excitement.

She stopped short, turned pale and fumbled at the lace handkerchief she carried.

"Every brave man who loves the Union must feel as you do to-day-and go-no matter how hard it may be for those who for those he leaves at home- 99

She paused in embarrassment at the break she had almost made, and flushed scarlet.

He leaned close:

"I'm afraid I'm not brave, Miss Betty. I ran with the rest of them yesterday, ran like a dog for my life"-he paused and caught his breath-"but I'm not sorry for it now. In the madness of that scramble to save my skin I had a sudden revelation of why life was sweet

He stopped and she scarcely breathed. Her heart seemed to cease beating. Her dry lips refused to speak the question she would ask. The sweet moment of pain and of glory had come. She felt his trembling hand seize her ice-cold fingers as he went on impetuously:

"Life was sweet because-because-I love you, Betty."

She sprang to her feet trembling from head to foot. He followed, whispering:

"My own, I love you-I love you

With sudden fierce strength he clasped her in his arms and covered her lips with kisses.

She lifted her trembling hands:

Again he smothered her words and held her in mad close embrace.

"Let me go-let me go!" she cried with sudden fury, thrusting him from her, breathless, her eyes blinded with tears.

"Tell me that you love me!" he cried with desperate pleading.

The splendid young figure faced him tense, quivering with rage.

"How dare you take me in your arms like that without a word?" Her eyes were flashing, her breast rising and falling with quick furious breathing.

He seized her hand and held it with cruel force. Her eyes blazed and he dropped it. She was thinking of the scene with his slender chivalrous brother. She could feel the soft kiss on the tips of her fingers and the blood surged to her face at the thought of this man's lips pressed on hers in mad, strangling passion without so much as by your leave! She could tear his eyes out.

He looked at her now in a hopeless stupor of regret.

"Forgive me, Betty," he faltered. "I-I couldn't help it."

Her eyes held his in a cold stare:

"I suppose that's all any woman has ever meant to you, and you took me for granted

He lifted his hand in protest.

"Please, please, Miss Betty," he groaned.

"You may go now," she said with slow emphasis.

He looked at her a moment dazed, and a wave of sullen anger slowly mounted his face to the roots of