pinned over her heart. When the service was over, and the people
had streamed out, and the brilliant lights were replaced by a radiance,
faint and soft, Anita remained on her knees, praying. Broussard
remained on his knees, too, thinking he was praying, but in reality
worshipping Anita. Presently, she rose and passed out into the cold,
gray dawn. Broussard went out, too, meaning to intercept her and walk
home with her. But at the door Kettle appeared, carrying in his arms
the After-Clap, now nearly three years old, and capable of making a
great deal of noise. At once, he sent up a shout for "'Nita!" and
Anita, cruelly oblivious of Broussard's claims, took the After-Clap by
the hand and ran off to see his Christmas tree--that being the
After-Clap's day. Kettle, however, lagged behind to administer
consolation to Broussard.

"Doan' you mind, Mr. Broussard," said Kettle, confidentially, "Miss
'Nita, she's jes' cipherin' on you all the time. She makes the Kun'l
tell her all 'bout them songs you done sing him that night in the
mountains, an' she and Miss Betty laffed fit ter kill when the Kun'l
tell 'em he made you sing like the devil to keep him from groanin' over
his ankle."

For six mortal days, Broussard sought his chance to be alone with
Anita, but that chance eluded him in a maddening manner. Either the
Colonel or the After-Clap was perpetually in his way, and neither
Beverley Fortescue nor Kettle, who were his open allies, nor Mrs.
Fortescue, who was secretly on his side, could help him. Broussard,
however, swore a mighty oath that he would have Anita's promise before
the new year began.

Late in the afternoon of the last day of the year, Broussard, who kept,
from the officers' club, a pretty close watch on the Commanding
Officer's house, saw Anita come out in her dark furs and the little
black gown and hat in which she looked most charming, and take her way
to the chapel. There was a back entrance, screened from the plaza by a
stone wall and a projection of the chapel, and Broussard thought there
could not be a better place for the words he meant to speak to Anita.
He seized his cap and ran out, ignoring the jeers of his comrades, who
had seen Anita pass and suspected Broussard's errand. In two minutes
he had entered the little walled-in spot, and there, indeed, stood
Anita. Within the chapel he could hear voices--the chaplain's voice
directing some changes; Kettle and a couple of men moving seats an