here another woman in the world like Lucille? Would any other
girl have so risen superior to her breeding, and the teachings of
Miss Smellie, as to do what she thought right, regardless of public
scandal...? But he must not give her the opportunity of being seen
talking to a soldier again--much less kissing one. Not that she would
want to kiss him again like that. That was the kiss of welcome, of
encouragement, of proof that she was unchanged to him--her first sight
of him after the _debacle_. It was the unchecked impulse of a noble
heart--and the action showed that Miss Smellie had been unable to do
it much harm with her miserable artificialities and stiflings of all
that is natural and human and right.... Should he read the letter at
once or treasure it up and keep it as a treat in store? He would hold
it in his hand unopened and imagine its contents. He would spin out
the glorious pleasure of possession of an unopened letter from
Lucille. He could, of course, read it hundreds of times--but he would
then soon know it by heart, and although its charm and value would be
no less, it would merge with his other memories and become a memory
itself. He did not want it to become a memory too soon.

The longer it remained an anticipation, the more distant the day when
it became a memory....

With a groan of "Oh, my brain's softening and I'm becoming a
sentimentalist," he opened the letter and read Lucille's loving,
cheering--yet agonizing, maddening--words:--

"MY OWN DARLING DAM,

"If this letter reaches you safely you are to
sit down at once and write to me to tell me how to
address you by post in the ordinary way. If you
don't I shall come and haunt the entrance to the
Lines and waylay you. People will think I am a
poor soul whom you have married and deserted, or
whom you won't marry. _I'll_ show up your wicked
cruelty to a poor girl! How would you like your
comrades to say 'Look out, Bill, your pore wife's
'anging about the gates' and to have to lie low--and
send out scouts to see if the coast was clear
later on? Don't you go playing fast and loose with
_me_, master Dam, winning my young affections,
making love to me, kissing me--and then refusing
to marry me after it all! I don't want to be too
hard on you (and I am reasonable enough to admit
that one-and-two a day puts things on a smaller
scale than I have been accustomed to in the home
of my fathers--or rather uncles, or