shall reveal it only by my action.  There is one thing that I can do, and shall be very glad to do.  I trust we are such good friends that you can accept of my offer.  Your regiment has been depleted.  New men would render it more effective and add to your chances of promotion.  It will be some time before you are fit for active service.  I can put you in the way of doing more than your brother-officers in the regiment, even though you are as pale as a ghost.  Open a recruiting office near your country home again,—­you can act at present through a sergeant,—­and I will give you a check which will enable you to add to the government bounty so largely that you can soon get a lot of hardy country fellows.  No one need know where the money comes from except ourselves.”

Strahan laughed, and said:  “It is useless for me to affect squeamishness in accepting favors from you at this late day.  I believed you saved my life last summer, and now you are almost as haggard as I am from watching over me.  I’ll take your offer in good faith, as I believe you mean it.  I won’t pose as a self-sacrificing patriot only.  I confess that I am ambitious.  You fellows used to call me ‘little Strahan.’  You are all right now, but there are some who smile yet when my name is mentioned, and who regard my shoulder-straps as a joke.  I’ve no doubt they are already laughing at the inglorious end of my military career.  I propose to prove that I can be a soldier as well as some bigger and more bewhiskered men.  I have other motives also;” and his thought was, “Marian may feel differently if I can win a colonel’s eagles.”

Merwyn surmised as much, but he only said, quietly:  “Your motives are as good as most men’s, and you have proved yourself a brave, efficient officer.  That would be enough for me, had I not other motives also.”

“Hang it all!  I would tell you my motives if you would be equally frank.”

“Since I cannot be, you must permit me to give other proofs of friendship.  Nor do I expect, indeed I should be embarrassed by receiving, what I cannot return.”

“You’re an odd fish, Merwyn.  Well, I have ample reason to give you my faith and loyalty, as I do.  Your proposition has put new life into me already.  I needn’t spend idle weeks—­”

“Hold on.  One stipulation.  Your physician must regulate all your actions.  Remember that here, as at the front, the physician is, at times, autocrat.”

Mervvyn called twice on Marian during his friend’s convalescence, and could no longer complain of any lack of politeness.  Indeed, her courtesy was slightly tinged with cordiality, and she took occasion to speak of her appreciation of his vigils at Strahan’s side.  Beyond this she showed no disposition towards friendliness.  At the same, time, she could not even pretend to herself that she was indifferent.  He piqued both her pride and her curiosity, for he made no further effort to reveal himself or to secure greater favor than she voluntarily bestowed.  She believed that her father looked upon her course as an instance of feminine prejudice, of resentment prolonged unnaturally and capriciously,—­that he was saying to himself, “A man would quarrel and have done with it after amends were made, but a woman—­”