an awful blunder,” and here she began to laugh again.  “There is quite a large library at the house, at least I suppose it’s large, and I read and read till I was on the point of rebellion, before you and Cousin Mad came.  Books make some things clear and others so-O puzzling.  I like to hear you talk, for you seem so decided and you know so much more than I do.  Cousin Mad never read much.  It was always horse, and dog, and gun with him.  How I’m running on and how far I am from your question!  But it is such a new thing to have a listener who cares and understands.  Aun’ Jinkey cares, poor soul! but she can understand so little.  Lieutenant, I can answer your implied question in only one way; I wish to know what is true.  Do you believe there’s a God who cares for us as Uncle Lusthah says?”

“Yes.”

“Well, I’m glad you do; and simply saying so will have more weight than all arguments.”

“Please remember, Miss Baron, I haven’t said that I lived up to my faith.  It’s hard to do this, I suppose, in the army.  Still I’ve no right to any excuses, much less to the unmanly one that it’s hard.  What if it is?  That’s a pretty excuse for a soldier.  Well, no matter about me, except that I wish you to know that with all my mind and heart I believe that there is a good God taking care of a good girl like you.  Pardon me if I ask another question quite foreign.  How could your cousin wish to marry you if you do not love him?”

He wondered as he saw the child-like look pass from her face and her brow darken into a frown.  “I scarcely know how to answer you,” she said, “and I only understand vaguely myself.  I understand better, though, since I’ve known you.  When you were hiding in Aun’ Jinkey’s cabin you looked goodwill at me.  I saw that you were not thinking of yourself, but of me, and that you wished me well.  I feel that Cousin Mad is always thinking of himself, that his professed love of me is a sort of self-love.  He gives me the feeling that he wants me for his own sake, not for my sake at all.  I don’t believe he’d love me a minute after he got tired of me.  I’d be just like the toys he used to cry for, then break up.  I won’t marry such a man, never.”

“You had better not.  Hush!  We are approaching a man yonder who appears anxious to hear what is none of his business.”

They had been strolling slowly back, often pausing in the deep mutual interest of their conversation.  Miss Lou now detected Perkins standing in the shadow of his dwelling, between the mansion and the quarters.

“That’s the overseer,” she said, in a low voice.  “How quick your eyes are!”

“They must be in my duty.”  Then he directed their steps so as to pass near the man.  When opposite, he turned his eyes suddenly upon Perkins’ face, and detected such a scowl of hostility and hate that his hand dropped instinctively on the butt of his revolver.  “Well, sir,” he said, sternly, “you have shown your disposition.”