she held up a glass of water. I never was so astonished
in my life.

"'You're thirsty and tired, too,' she said, speaking as low as if she
was afraid the horse might hear. 'For my self-respect--for Southern
women'--she brought it out in that soft, sliding way, but the words
were all mixed up with embarrassment--and red--my, but she blushed! Then
she went on. 'You were right,' said she. 'I was cruel; you're my enemy
and I hate you, but I ought not to grudge you water. Take it.'

"I put my hand right on top of hers as she held the glass, and bent down
and drank so, making her hold it to my lips, and my hand over
hers--bless her heart!"

The General came to a full stop. He was smiling into the fire, and his
face was as if a flame burned back of it. I waited very quietly, fearing
to change the current by a word, and in a moment the strong voice, with
its vibrating note, not to be described, began again.

"I drained every drop," he said, "I'd have drunk a hogshead. When I
finished I raised my head and looked down at her without a word
said--but I didn't let go of the glass with her hand holding it inside
mine--and she lifted her eyes very slowly, and for the first time looked
at me. Well--" he shut his lips a moment--"these things don't tell well,
but something happened. I held her eyes into mine, us if I gripped them
with my muscles, and there came over her face an extraordinary
expression--first as if she was surprised that it was me, then as if she
was glad, and then--well, you may believe it or not, but I knew that
second that the girl--loved me. She hated me all right five minutes
before--I was her people's enemy--the chances were she'd never see me
again--all that's true, but it simply didn't count. She cared for me,
and I for her, and we both knew it--that's all there was about it.
People live faster in war-time, I think--anyhow, that's the way it was.

"The men and horses came pouring around the house, and I let her hand
loose--it was hard to do it, too--and then she was gone, and we rode on
to the ford. We stopped when we got to the stream to let the horses have
their turn at drinking, and as I sat loafing in the saddle, with my mind
pretty full of what had just passed, my eyes were all over. Every
cavalry officer, and especially an aide-de-camp, gets to be a sort of
hawk in active service--nothing can move within range that he doesn't
see. So as I looked about me I took in among other things the house
we'd ju