came to me a
year ago, Captain Le Gaire, at a time when I was particularly lonely,
and susceptible to kindness. You were an officer in the army, fighting
for a cause I loved, and your friendly attentions were very welcome. My
father liked you, and we were constantly thrown together. I have lived
rather a secluded life, here on this plantation since my school days,
meeting few men of my own station, and still young enough to be
romantic. I thought I loved you, and perhaps the feeling I cherished
might have truly become love had you always remained the same
considerate gentleman I first believed you to be. Instead, little by
little, I have been driven away, hurt by your coarseness, your lack of
chivalry, until now, when it comes to the supreme test, I find my soul
in revolt. Am I altogether to blame?"

I do not think he comprehended, grasped the truth she sought to convey,
for he broke forth angrily:

"Very pretty, indeed! And do you think I will ever stand for it? Why, I
should be the laughing stock of the army, a butt for every brainless
joker in the camp. I am not such a fool, my girl." He stepped forward,
grasping her hands, and holding them in spite of her slight effort to
break away. "I am a frank-spoken man, yes, but I have never failed to
treat you with respect."

"You may call it that, but you have repeatedly sworn in my presence,
have ordered me harshly about, have even arranged this affair without
first consulting me. If this be your manner before marriage, what brand
of brutality could I expect after?"

"Poof! I may be quick-tempered; perhaps we are neither of us angels, but
you choose a poor time for a quarrel. Come, Billie, let's kiss and make
up. What! Still angry? Surely you are not in earnest?"

"But I am--very much in earnest."

"You mean to throw me down? Now at the last moment, with all the fellows
waiting in the next room?"

She had her hands freed, and with them held behind her, stood motionless
facing him.

"Would you marry me against my wish?" she asked. "Would you hold me to a
promise I regret having made? I sent for you merely to tell you the
truth, to throw myself on your generosity. I am scarcely more than a
girl, Captain Le Gaire, and acknowledge I have done wrong, have been
deceived in my own feelings. You have my word--the word of a Hardy--and
we keep our pledges. I suppose I must marry you if you insist, but I
implore you as a man of honor, a Southern gentleman, to release me."