JENNY. [Aside.] As he loves me. [Approaches him.

HEARTSEASE.  As soldiers often do—­[Plays; she turns away, petulantly; he plays the tune through correctly.] That’s it!

JENNY. [Aside.] I’m not going to be made love to by piece-meal, like this, any longer. [Aloud.] Captain Heartsease!  Have you anything in particular to say to me? [He looks up.

HEARTSEASE.  Y-e-s. [Rising.

JENNY.  Say it!  You told my father, and all my friends, that you were in love with me.  Whom are you going to tell next?

HEARTSEASE.  I am in love with you.

JENNY.  It was my turn.

HEARTSEASE. [Going near to her.] Do you love me?

JENNY. [Laying her head quietly on his breast.] I must take time to consider.

HEARTSEASE. [Quietly.] I assume that this means “Yes.”

JENNY.  It isn’t the way a girl says “No.”

HEARTSEASE.  My darling!

JENNY.  Why!  His heart is beating as fast as mine is!

HEARTSEASE. [Quietly.] I am frantic with joy. [He kisses her.  She hides her face on his breast.  Enter MRS. HAVERILL, down-stairs, followed by JANNETTE.  MRS. HAVERILL stops suddenly. JANNETTE stands in the doorway. HEARTSEASE inclines his head to her, quietly looking at her over JENNY.] I am delighted to see you, after so long an absence; I trust that we shall meet more frequently hereafter.

JENNY. [Looking at him.] Eh?

HEARTSEASE. [Looking down at her.] I think, perhaps, it might be as well for us to repair to another apartment, and continue our interview, there!

JENNY. [Dropping her head on his breast again.] This room is very comfortable.

MRS. HAVERILL.  Jenny, dear! [JENNY starts up; looks from MRS. HAVERILL to HEARTSEASE.

JENNY.  Constance!  I—­’Bout face!  March! [Turns and goes out.

MRS. HAVERILL.  I am glad to see you again, Captain, and happy as well as safe.

HEARTSEASE.  Thank you, Madam.  I am happy.  If you will excuse me, I will join—­my father—­in the smoking-room. [MRS. HAVERILL inclines her head, and HEARTSEASE walks out.

MRS. HAVERILL.  Jannette!  You may ask General Haverill to come into this room. [Exit JANNETTE.  MRS. HAVERILL walks down, reading a note.] “I have hesitated to come to you personally, as I have hesitated to write to you.  If I have been silent, it is because I could not bring my hand to write what was in my mind and in my heart.  I do not know that I can trust my tongue to speak it, but I will come.”

Enter HAVERILL from hall; he stops.

HAVERILL.  Constance!

MRS. HAVERILL.  My husband!  May I call you husband?  After all these months of separation, with your life in almost daily peril, and my life—­what?  Only a weary longing for one loving word—­and you are silent.