“A preacher!” her voice vibrant with derision, “a preacher!  Well, of all things, Bob Hampton!  You led around by the nose in that way!  Did he want you to bring me to Sunday school?  A preacher!  And I suppose the fellow expects to turn me over to one of his flock for religious instruction.  He’ll have you studying theology inside of a year.  A preacher!  Oh, Lord, and you agreed!  Well, I won’t go; so there!”

“As I understand the affair,” Hampton continued, as she paused for breath, “it was Lieutenant Brant who suggested the idea of his coming to me.  Brant knew Gillis, and remembered you, and realizing your unpleasant situation, thought such an arrangement would be for your benefit.”

“Brant!” she burst forth in renewed anger; “he did, did he!  The putty-faced dandy!  I used to see him at Bethune, and you can bet he never bothered his head about me then.  No, and he didn’t even know me out yonder, until after the sergeant spoke up.  What business has that fellow got planning what I shall do?”

Hampton made no attempt to answer.  It was better to let her indignation die out naturally, and so he asked a question.  “What is this Brant doing at Bethune?  There is no cavalry stationed there.”

She glanced up quickly, interested by the sudden change in his voice.  “I heard dad say he was kept there on some special detail.  His regiment is stationed at Fort Lincoln, somewhere farther north.  He used to come down and talk with dad evenings, because daddy saw service in the Seventh when it was first organized after the war.”

“Did you—­did you ever hear either of them say anything about Major Alfred Brant?  He must have been this lad’s father.”

“No, I never heard much they said.  Did you know him?”

“The father, yes, but that was years ago.  Come, Kid, all this is only ancient history, and just as well forgotten.  Now, you are a sensible girl, when your temper don’t get away with you, and I am simply going to leave this matter to your better judgment.  Will you go to Mrs. Herndon’s, and find out how you like it?  You need n’t stop there an hour if she is n’t good to you, but you ought not to want to remain with me, and grow up like a rough boy.”

“You—­you really want me to go, don’t you?”

“Yes, I want you to go.  It’s a chance for you, Kid, and there is n’t a bit of a show in the kind of a life I lead.  I never have been in love with it myself, and only took to it in the first place because the devil happened to drive me that way.  The Lord knows I don’t want to lead any one else through such a muck.  So it is a try?”

The look of defiance faded slowly out of her face as she stood gravely regarding him.  The man was in deadly earnest, and she felt the quiet insistence of his manner.  He really desired it to be decided in this way, and somehow his will had become her law, although such a suspicion had never once entered her mind.