d you not tell me that man was here again?" she demanded in
intense excitement.

"That man! What man?" asked Col. Zane, considerably taken back by
this angry apparition.

"Mr. Clarke, of course. Just as if you did not know. I suppose you
thought it a fine opportunity for one of your jokes."

"Oh, Clarke. Well, the fact is I just found it out myself. Haven't I
been away as well as you? I certainly cannot imagine how any man
could create such evident excitement in your mind. Poor Clarke, what
has he done now?"

"You might have told me. Somebody could have told me and saved me
from making a fool of myself," retorted Betty, who was plainly on
the verge of tears. "I rode down to the old sycamore tree and he saw
me in, of all the places in the world, the one place where I would
not want him to see me."

"Huh!" said the Colonel, who often gave vent to the Indian
exclamation. "Is that all? I thought something had happened."

"All! Is it not enough? I would rather have died. He is a man and he
will think I followed him down there, that I was thinking
of--that--Oh!" cried Betty, passionately, and then she strode into
the house, slammed the door, and left the Colonel, lost in wonder.

"Humph! These women beat me. I can't make them out, and the older I
grow the worse I get," he said, as he led the pony into the stable.

Betty ran up-stairs to her room, her head in a whirl stronger than
the surprise of Alfred's unexpected appearance in Fort Henry and
stronger than the mortification in having been discovered going to a
spot she should have been too proud to remember was the bitter sweet
consciousness that his mere presence had thrilled her through and
through. It hurt her and made her hate herself in that moment. She
hid her face in shame at the thought that she could not help being
glad to see the man who had only trifled with her, the man who had
considered the acquaintance of so little consequence that he had
never taken the trouble to write her a line or send her a message.
She wrung her trembling hands. She endeavored to still that
throbbing heart and to conquer that sweet vague feeling which had
crept over her and made her weak. The tears began to come and with a
sob she threw herself on the bed and buried her head in the pillow.

An hour after, when Betty had quieted herself and had seated herself
by the window a light knock sounded on the door and Col. Zane
entered. He hesitated and came in rather timidly, for Bett