lly relieved to find her out. But I found her in, and alone. She
told me that her sister Frances was coming, made rather a point of it,
expecting me to manage to see her, though on the hike how can I? There
was a delightful old colonel there, who rather took to me, and when on
the coming of Lieutenant Pendleton I naturally tried to make myself
scarce, the colonel took me into his study to show me the service pistol
that they used in his day. And when finally I took my leave of him, on my
way out (missing the front door and blundering into the parlor) I ran
into the most distressing sort of scene.

Pendleton and Kirby were both there, and the captain having his hat in
his hand, I imagine he'd only just come. The lieutenant was fiery red; I
think I know the look of a man when he's been turned down, and I saw it
in his face. Vera was in that cold and lofty mood of hers when nothing
counts but the idea she has in mind; no one seeing her so would think she
ever again could be gentle or tender--poor Vera, with all her struggles
to perfect herself, and yet with so much manner, yes and so much
headstrong will, hiding it all. It seemed as if she had called the
captain to witness, perhaps to agree in, something she had just
announced; you know it, mother, that old idea of hers that caused me such
years of effort. I heard the words just as I parted the curtains, and
they stopped me dead.

"A man should be able to offer a woman the best that there is."

Pendleton with his head hanging low, Kirby gone white under his tan and
looking as if he had been shot through the heart--but that was not all.
Vera herself looked sick and--there is no other word than desperate.
Explain it if you can. All I could do was to find my way out as quickly
and silently as I could.

I went across the parade-ground and walked up and down by the lake, to
still my many memories. Poor Vera! She is still groping, having a woman's
instincts but yet suppressing them. If only the right man could show her
her true self, she is so honest she would recognize it. But where is he?
or how could he get to know the heart which she herself does not
understand?

On the way back to camp I went through the woods, and there I passed the
poor lieutenant, walking with dragging step, still with his head upon his
breast. But when I came to the company street, there in front of his tent
stood the captain, a different picture. He was as straight as a--well, as
a soldier, which