sk your pardon."

Her words followed each other swiftly, as though the speech was one
which she wished to say quickly, before her determination to speak it
wavered. The flush which had come to her face at the door had never
receded, and still enveloped her features charmingly, as she sat with
bent head in the cool semi-gloom of the old library.

Glenning looked on her a moment keenly before he replied. The picture
she made might have stirred any man's heart. He knew she was sincere;
that sufficed for the time.

"Don't speak of apologies," he answered, in a voice which had grown
deeper and more vibrant. "You do not owe me any. I have read of days
when men counted it a favor to serve a lady, be she friend or stranger.
Let us not think those days are entirely gone--that they are as dead as
the people who lived in them. Candidly, and without simulation, I was
glad to do what I did for you--gladder still that you felt you might
call upon me. That means more than all else, perhaps. And it was not all
a duty, believe me; it was a pleasure."

A smile trembled upon her lips as she raised her head and looked
squarely at him.

"And these," she said, "upon your cheek, and neck, and forehead. Your
hands, blackened and burned"--her voice quivered--"your lungs perhaps
scorched--what of these?"

He laughed gently.

"Let us say my body has been purged of some of its sins by fire, and let
us call the marks badges of honor. They will not deface, and I shall
never be sorry for them."

There was a peculiar earnestness to his tones she could not fathom.
None of the young men in Macon would have made a speech like that. None
of them could have understood such sentiments. She understood them but
vaguely herself, yet they appeared very noble. As he spoke, she knew
that she was noticing for the first time the square lines of his angular
face, and the half melancholy, half humorous expression of his eyes.

"You take serious things quite lightly," she contended, "but it is
difficult to answer you. You are striving not to permit your heroism to
be recognized, but _we_ know better, father and I, and you must not
speak deprecatingly of it before us. It will hurt us. Shall I go for
father?" She arose quietly and stood before him. "Peter is arranging new
quarters for the Prince, and father is superintending the work."

"Yes, if it is convenient for him to come now. I don't think I need
delay him long. You, too, had better be present, for yo