hies! Isn't there a little
too much poetry and not enough truth about it?"

"There is. I fought with the Greeks because I disliked them less than
the Turks."

"And Mr. Breitmann?"

He smiled. "He fought with the Turks to chastise Greece, which he
loves."

"What adventures you two must have had! To be on opposing sides, like
that!"

"Opposing newspapers. The two angles of vision made our copy
interesting. There was really no romance about it. It was purely a
business transaction. We offered our lives and our pencils for a
hundred a week and our expenses. Rather sordid side to it, eh? And a
fourth-rate order or two--"

"You were decorated?" excitedly. "I am sure it was for bravery."

"Don't you believe it. The king of Greece and the sultan both
considered the honor conferred upon us as good advertising."

"You are laughing."

"Well, war in the Balkans is generally a laughing matter. Sounds
brutal, I know, but it is true."

"I know," gaily. "You are conceited, and are trying to make me believe
that you are modest."

"A bull's-eye!"

"And this Mr. Breitmann has been decorated for valor? And yet to-day
he becomes my father's private secretary. The two do not connect."

"May I ask you to mention nothing of this to him? It would embarrass
him. I had no business to bring him into it."

She grew meditative, brushing her lips with the blossoms. "He will be
something of a mystery. I am not overfond of mysteries outside of book
covers."

"There is really no mystery; but it is human for a man in his position
to wish to bury his past greatness."

By and by the sun touched the southwest shoulder of the hill, and the
two strolled back to the house.

From his window, Breitmann could see them plainly.

"Damn those scars!" he murmured, striking with his fist the disfigured
cheek, which upon a time had been a source of pride and honor. "Damn
them!"

CHAPTER IX

THEY DRESS FOR DINNER

Breitmann watched them as long as he could. There was no jealousy in
his heart, but there was bitterness, discontent, a savage
self-pillorying. He was genuinely sorry that this young woman was so
pretty; still, had she the graces of Calypso, he must have come. She
would distract him, and he desired at that time distraction least of
all diversions. Concentration and singleness of purpose--upon these
two attributes practically hung his life. How strangely fate had
stepped with him. What if there had