“During which you bore yourself exceedingly well.  I have always read of the initiative of the American soldier, Captain, and in this case, you met my every expectation.”

“Then I have passed the test?”

She hesitated, her eyes seeking his, and then falling before his gaze.

“Yes,” she acknowledged slowly, “I can scarcely say anything else now; the—­the affair has progressed so far already there is nothing to do but go on with it.”

“Yet I remain wholly in the dark,” he protested..  “Surely you cannot expect real service when given so blindly?”

“No, I do not.  I mean to trust you fully.  It is the only way; but do you still truly wish to serve?”

“I am enlisted in the cause without reserve,” he insisted warmly.  “While I learned but little last evening, that little was enough to convince me there is something strange under the surface.  Your calling me to your assistance is no joke—­you actually need me.”

“I need some one on whose judgment and courage I can rely,” she answered earnestly, “and I believe now that you are the one.  It is rather an odd situation, Captain West, but the circumstances surely justify my action.  Perhaps I shall have time to partly explain now.  Let us slip into the concealment of this summer-house; no one can approach without being seen.”

It was dark and cool under the shadow of the vines, but, for a moment after they were seated, neither spoke.  West waited expectantly for his companion to break the silence, and she seemingly found it difficult to begin her story.  The flush deepened on her cheeks, and her lips parted.

“It really seems so ridiculous,” she explained at last desperately.  “Almost like a dream of fancy, and I hardly know how to put the situation into words.  If I were ten years younger I would almost be convinced myself that it was all imaginary, yet everything I tell you is true.  I wonder if you will believe me?”

“Do not question that.  I realize fully your earnestness.”

“Yet I am going to test your credulity, just the same.  But it would be very foolish to venture as far as I have already, and then fail to go on.  So I’ll tell you just what I know, and—­and then leave it there.  That will be the best way.  Those people you met last evening have nothing to do with the story—­none of them, at least, unless it may possibly be Percival Coolidge.  I am rather afraid of him; I always have been.  I believe he knows what all this trouble means, but I do not dare go and talk with him about it.  That is really what is the matter, I suppose—­there is no one I can talk to; they would only laugh at me.  If you do, I shall never forgive you.”

“I am not at all so inclined.  Tell me the story from the very beginning.”

“Yes, I will.  My father was Steven Coolidge, and was very wealthy.  He did not marry until late in life, and, I have reason to believe it was a great disappointment to his brother Percival that a child was born.  Perhaps I ought not to make such a statement, but much has occurred to impress me with his dislike—­”