t me go out this way. It is a
shorter cut. Thank you for everything, and perhaps if there's ever
another time--I'd like to come again----"

"Oh, please don't go yet!" she said putting out her hand in protest. But
he grasped the hand with a quick impulsive grip and with a hasty: "I'm
sorry, but I must!" he opened the glass door to the side piazza and was
gone.

In much bewilderment and distress Ruth watched him stride away toward the
hedge and disappear. Then she turned to the front window and caught a
glimpse of Lieutenant Wainwright just mounting the front steps. What did
it all mean?

IX

Ruth tried to control her perturbation and meet her guest with an
unruffled countenance, but there was something about the bland smug
countenance of Lieutenant Wainwright that irritated her. To have her
first pleasant visit with Cameron suddenly broken up in this mysterious
fashion, and Wainwright substituted for Cameron was somehow like taking a
bite of some pleasant fruit and having it turn out plain potato in one's
mouth. It was so sudden, like that. She could not seem to get her
equilibrium. Her mind was in a whirl of question and she could not focus
it on her present caller nor think of anything suitable to say to him.
She was not even sure but that he was noticing that she was distraught.

To have John Cameron leave in that precipitate manner at the sight of
Harry Wainwright! It was all too evident that he had seen him through the
window. But they were fellow townsmen, and had gone to school together!
Surely he knew him! Of course, Harry was a superior officer, but Cameron
would not be the kind of man to mind that. She could not understand it.
There had been a look in his face--a set look! There must be something
behind it all. Some reason why he did not want to be seen by Wainwright.
Surely Cameron had nothing of which to be ashamed! The thought brought a
sudden dismay. What did she know about Cameron after all? A look, a
smile, a bit of boyish gallantry. He might be anything but fine in his
private life, of course, and Harry might be cognizant of the fact. Yet he
did not look like that. Even while the thought forced itself into her
mind she resented it and resisted it. Then turning to her guest who was
giving an elaborate account of how he had saved a woman's life in an
automobile accident, she interrupted him:

"Harry, what do you know about John Cameron?" she asked impulsively.

Wainwright's face darkened wi