I thought I saw light now.  She forced herself to be angry with me, but face to face was unable to carry out the programme.

“Will you come up here, Miss Billie?” I asked.  “Let us take this settee a moment, and I will endeavor to explain.  We are alone here, and I would not care to talk freely before the others.  I prefer them to think this is purely a military affair, don’t you?”

She hesitated, biting her lip, and standing motionless.  My hand was extended, but she ignored it, yet, after a moment, she stepped up beside me, her hand on the settee.

“It—­it is not a military affair then?”

“Only incidentally—­I told you the truth before.”

“I—­I do not remember.”

“Perhaps I failed to make all clear; indeed, I was a little hazy myself, events crowded upon us so rapidly.  Won’t you sit down while I talk?”

She sank upon the settee, as though to an order, looking into my face, with an expression in her eyes I was unable to comprehend.

“I have wanted to see you alone,” I began, determined there should be no lack of courage on my part.  “There is no longer need of any secrets between us.  We have met only once before to-night, but that meeting was of such a character that we were instantly acquainted.  To be sure we were working at cross-purposes, and you outwitted me, but later you squared all that by saving me from capture.”

“Why go over that unfortunate occurrence?” she interrupted.  “Do you not suppose I regret that enough already?”

“I doubt if you regret it at all.”

“But I do—­I haven’t had a moment’s peace since.”

“Indeed!  Why?” and I bent lower, eager to read her eyes.  “Because even in that little time you had learned to care for me?”

“Your words are insolent,” rising to her feet, proudly, but I remained directly in her path.

“No, Miss Willifred,” earnestly, “they are not, because they come from the heart.  You are a woman, and therefore you understand.  You cannot be angry with me, no matter how hard you try.  You are endeavoring to deceive yourself, but the effort is useless.  You do care for me—­that was why you waited for me to get safely across the river; that was why you have come to me now.  Ever since I left you in the grape arbor I have been in your thoughts.”

“And why I was also about to marry Captain Le Gaire, I suppose,” she interposed defiantly, but with eyes unable to meet mine.

“I can comprehend that easily enough, helped by what I overheard.  You cannot tell me you desired to marry Captain Le Gaire—­can you?”

“No,” for I stopped, and thus compelled an answer.  “It would be useless to deny that.”

“I was so sure of this that I acted, took the one course open to me to prevent your doing this wrong.  I deliberately determined to risk your displeasure rather than permit the sacrifice.  You were marrying him merely because you had promised, because you could not explain to your father why your feelings had changed—­you were afraid to confess that you loved a Yankee.”