t is the chaos from which I have come, and to which I must go again when
I leave you--it is that which destroys your peace."

Frightened and astonished, Eveley soothed her, cradling her in her arms.
"You little silly," she said tenderly. "You dear little goose. Don't you
believe any such nonsense as that. We are in a condition of turmoil, our
United States and all the rest of the world. It is not the affairs of
your Mexico that worry me--it is the tempest in my own country. And don't
you ever talk any more about going back. You shall never go back. You are
to stay here with me forever and ever, world without end, amen. You will,
won't you?"

Marie only stirred a little, and did not answer.

"Marie," cried Eveley, her voice sharp with fear. "Do you ever think
really of going back to--that? Answer me." And she gripped Marie's soft
shoulder with strong fingers.

"I do not think any more," said Marie gently. "But one always has a
feeling that one must return whence one has come, do you not think? It is
only that. It seems incredible that I, alone out of our struggling
thousands, should be let to come away and live serenely in a cloud cote,
does it not? And the struggle in Mexico goes on."

"The same kind of peace and contentment will come to all your country
when the world is settled down to law and order once more," said Eveley,
with the sublime faith of the young and the unsuffering. "It just takes
time. And God was good enough to carry you away before the end of the
conflict. Just wait. When our country is thoroughly Americanized, and
returns to joyful work and love and life again, the contagion will spread
to your people, and peace will reign there also. So do not talk any more
nonsense about leaving me. Now let's go back to the beginning, and talk
about--the men."

CHAPTER XVIII

CONVERTS OF LOVE

A very warm intimacy developed rapidly between the four friends, and
every evening for nearly two weeks found them joyfully, even riotously,
making merry together in the Cloud Cote. As Eveley had prophesied,
Lieutenant Ames was hopelessly lost from the first, and Marie yielded
herself very readily to the charm of an ardent wooing.

But with Eveley, Marie was different, more quiet, less demonstrative,
sometimes plainly listless and absent-minded. Eveley ascribed the change
to her newly developed interest in Lieutenant Ames, and patiently awaited
the outcome of the ripening romance. For Eveley had a deep-seate