d the talk leaped from jest to protest, and back
to laughter again, agile and inconsequent. The time and the place, the
past and the future, counted for little to these four, for they were
young and they were lovers.

At last Jennie rose. "If you people are to rise at dawn you must go to
sleep now. Good-night! Come, Elsie Bee Bee."

Maynard followed Jennie into the hall with some jest, and Curtis seized
the opportunity to delay Elsie. He offered his hand, and she laid hers
therein with a motion of half-surrender.

"Good-night, Captain. I appreciate your kindness more than I can say."

"Don't try. I feel now that I have done nothing--nothing of what I
should have done; but I didn't think you were to leave so soon. If I had
known--"

"You have done more than you realize. Once more, good-night!"

"Good-night!" he said, in an unsteady voice; "and remember, you promised
to write!"

"I will keep my promise." She turned at the door. "Don't try to write
around your red people. I believe I'd like to hear how you get on with
them."

"Defend me from mine enemies within the gates, and I'll work out my
problem."

"I'll do my best. Good-bye!"

"No, not good-bye--just good-night!"

For a moment he stood meditating a further word, then stepped into the
hall. Elsie, midway on the stairs, had turned and was looking down at
him with a face wherein the eyes were wistful and brows perplexed. She
guiltily lowered her lashes and turned away, but that momentary
pause--that subtle interplay of doubt and dream--had given the soldier a
pleasure deeper than words.

* * * * *

Jennie was waiting at the door of the tiny room in which Elsie was to
sleep, her face glowing with admiration and love. "Oh, you queenly
girl!" she cried, with a convulsive clasp of her strong arms. "I can't
get over the wonder of your being here in our little house. You ought to
live always in a castle."

Elsie smiled, but with tears in her eyes. "You're a dear, good girl. I
never had a truer friend."

"I wish you were poor!" said Jennie, as they entered the plain little
room; "then you could come here as a missionary or something, and we
could have you with us all the time. I hate to think of your going away
to-morrow."

"You must come and see me in Washington."

"Oh no! That wouldn't do!" said Jennie, half alarmed. "It might spoil me
for life out here. You must visit us again."

There was a note of honest, almost boyi