I didn't sleep a wink."
"Nor I."
"I walked the floor till daybreak."
"And I sat by the window."
"I hurled every hard name at myself that I could think of. 'Dolt and idiot'
seemed to stick. By George, I can't get over it. To think that I might have
galloped down that turnpike and swept you off your feet. You wouldn't have
withstood me, Betty, you couldn't."
"Yet I did," she said, smiling sadly.
"Oh, I didn't have a fair chance, you see."
"Perhaps not," she answered, "though sometimes I was afraid you would hear
my heart beating and know it all. Do you remember that morning in the
garden with the roses?--I wouldn't kiss you good-by, but if you had done it
against my will I'd have broken down. After you had gone I kissed the grass
where you had stood."
"My God! I can't leave you, Betty."
She met his passionate gaze with steady eyes.
"If you were not to go I should never have told you," she answered; "but if
you die in battle you must remember it at the last."
"It seems an awful waste of opportunities," he said, "but I'll make it up
on the day that I come back a Major-general. Then I shall say 'forward,
madam,' and you'll marry me on the spot."
"Don't be too sure. I may grow coy again when the war is over."
"When you do I'll find the remedy--for I'll be a Major-general, then, and
you a private. This war must make me, dear. I shan't stay in the ranks much
longer."
"I like you there--it is so brave," she said.
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