ervice. He would be agreeable to the
ladies, of course, in deference to his commander and the honor he was
receiving at his hands.

The dinner was a success. The mother was charming and gracious in her
welcome. Something in her ways recalled his own mother.

She extended her hand with a genial smile, and took his breath with her
first remark:

"I've quite fallen in love with you, sir, because of a story I heard of
your West Point career--"

"Not in pity for my fall over the cliff, I hope," he answered gravely.

The mother's voice dropped to a whisper:

"No,--your friend Albert Sydney Johnston told me that you saved a large
part of your allowance and sent it home to your mother--"

The young officer's lips trembled, and he looked away for a moment:

"But she sent it back to me, madam."

"Yes, until you wrote that she hurt you by not keeping it--"

To relieve his evident embarrassment, the mother introduced him in rapid
succession to her daughters, the eldest Anne, the second Sarah Knox, the
youngest Elizabeth. Richard, the handsome little boy, had introduced
himself. He had liked the Lieutenant from the first.

He had been so surprised by the mother's possession of one of the
sweetest secrets of his schoolboy life, and had blushed so furiously
over it, he had scarcely noticed the girls, merely bowing in his
confusion.

It was not until they were seated at the table and the dinner had fairly
begun, that he became conscious of the charm of the second daughter, who
sat directly opposite.

Her beauty was not dazzling, but in fifteen minutes she had completely
absorbed his attention. It was impossible, of course, not to look at
her. She sat squarely before him. There was no embarrassment in the
frank, honest curiosity with which she returned his gaze.

The thing that first impressed him was the frankness of a winsome
personality. He listened with keen attention to her voice. There was no
simper, no affectation, no posing. She was just herself. He found
himself analyzing her character. Refined--yes. Intelligent--beyond a
doubt. She talked with her father in a quiet, authoritative way which
left no doubt on that score. Graceful, tender, sincere, too--her tones
to her impulsive brother and her younger sister proved that. And a will
of her own she had. The firmly set, full lips were eloquent of
character. He liked that above all things in a woman. He couldn't stand
a simpering doll.

"Sing for us, Sarah!" her b