“Jinny,” he said, “what is the matter?”

“Nothing, Max.  Only I was very foolish to say I would wait for you.”

“Then—­then you won’t marry me?”

“Oh, Max,” she cried, “it is no time to talk of that now.  I feel to-night as if something dreadful were to happen.”

“Do you mean war?” he asked.

“Yes,” she said.  “Yes.”

“But war is what we want,” he cried, “what we have prayed for, what we have both been longing for to-night, Jinny.  War alone will give us our rights—­”

He stopped short.  Virginia had bowed her head an her hands, and he saw her shoulders shaken by a sob.  Clarence bent over her in bewilderment and anxiety.

“You are not well, Jinny,” he said.

“I am not well,” she answered.  “Take me into the house.”

But when they went in at the door, he saw that her eyes were dry.

Those were the days when a dozen young ladies were in the habit of staying all night after a dance in the country; of long whispered talks (nay, not always whispered) until early morning.  And of late breakfasts.  Miss Russell had not been the only one who remarked Virginia’s long absence with her cousin; but Puss found her friend in one of those moods which even she dared not disturb.  Accordingly Miss Russell stayed all night with Anne.

And the two spent most of the dark hours remaining in unprofitable discussion as to whether Virginia were at last engaged to her cousin, and in vain queried over another unsolved mystery.  This mystery was taken up at the breakfast table the next morning, when Miss Carvel surprised Mrs. Brinsmade and the male household by appearing at half-past seven.

“Why, Jinny,” cried Mr. Brinsmade, “what does this mean?  I always thought that young ladies did not get up after a ball until noon.”

Virginia smiled a little nervously.

“I am going to ask you to take me to town when you go, Mr. Brinsmade.”

“Why, certainly, my dear,” he said.  “But I under stood that your aunt was to send for you this afternoon from Bellegarde.”

Virginia shook her head.  There is something I wis to do in town.”

“I’ll drive her in, Pa,” said Jack.  “You’re too old.  Will you go with me, Jinny?”

“Of course, Jack.”

“But you must eat some breakfast, Jinny,” said Mrs Brinsmade, glancing anxiously at the girl.

Mr. Brinsmade put down his newspaper.

“Where was Stephen Brice last night, Jack?” he asked.  “I understood Anne to say that he had spoke; of coming late.”

“Why, sir,” said Jack, “that’s what we can’t make out.  Tom Catherwood, who is always doing queer things, you know, went to a Black Republican meeting last night, and met Stephen there.  They came out in Tom’s buggy to the Russells’, and Tom got into his clothes first and rode over.  Stephen was to have followed on Puss Russell’s horse.  But he never got here.  At least I can find no one who saw him.  Did you, Jinny?”