“I have not allowed Mr. Miller to run after me, as you are pleased to term it,” retorted Betty with indignation.  “I do not like him.  I never see him any more unless you or Bessie or some one else is present.  You know that.  I cannot prevent him from walking to church with me.”

“No, I suppose not, but are you entirely innocent of those sweet glances which you gave him this morning?”

“I did not,” cried Betty with an angry blush.  “I won’t be called a flirt by you or by anyone else.  The moment I am civil to some man all these old maids and old women say I am flirting.  It is outrageous.”

“Now, Betty, don’t get excited.  We are getting from the question.  Why are you not civil to Clarke?” asked Col.  Zane.  She did not answer and after a moment he continued.  “If there is anything about Clarke that I do not know and that I should know I want you to tell me.  Personally I like the fellow.  I am not saying that to make you think you ought to like him because I do.  You might not care for him at all, but that would be no good reason for your actions.  Betty, in these frontier settlements a man is soon known for his real worth.  Every one at the Fort liked Clarke.  The youngsters adored him.  Jessie liked him very much.  You know he and Isaac became good friends.  I think he acted like a man to-day.  I saw the look Miller gave him.  I don’t like this fellow Miller, anyway.  Now, I am taking the trouble to tell you my side of the argument.  It is not a question of your liking Clarke—­that is none of my affair.  It is simply that either he is not the man we all think him or you are acting in a way unbecoming a Zane.  I do not purpose to have this state of affairs continue.  Now, enough of this beating about the bush.”

Betty had seen the Colonel angry more than once, but never with her.  It was quite certain she had angered him and she forgot her own resentment.  Her heart had warmed with her brother’s praise of Clarke.  Then as she remembered the past she felt a scorn for her weakness and such a revulsion of feeling that she cried out passionately: 

“He is a trifler.  He never cared for me.  He insulted me.”

Col.  Zane reached for his hat, got up without saying another word and went down stairs.

Betty had not intended to say quite what she had and instantly regretted her hasty words.  She called to the Colonel, but he did not answer her, nor return.

“Betty, what in the world could you have said to my husband?” said Mrs. Zane as she entered the room.  She was breathless from running up the stairs and her comely face wore a look of concern.  “He was as white as that sheet and he stalked off toward the Fort without a word to me.”

“I simply told him Mr. Clarke had insulted me,” answered Betty calmly.

“Great Heavens!  Betty, what have you done?” exclaimed Mrs. Zane.  “You don’t know Eb when he is angry.  He is a big fool over you, anyway.  He is liable to kill Clarke.”