hey know that supper bill by heart. It never changes." All
the same, at the bottom of this public display of sisterly devotion and
harmony and in spite of occasional tiffs and differences, there was
genuine affection on both sides, for as a child Nita had adored Margaret,
and there could be no doubting the elder's love for the child. Some
regimental observers said that every bit of heart that eldest Terriss
girl had was wrapped up in the little one. Neither girl, even after
Margaret's marriage, would listen to a word in disparagement of the
other, but in the sanctity of the sisterly retreat on the third floor of
the old hotel there occurred sometimes spirited verbal tilts that were
quite distinctly audible to passers-by in the corridor, provided they
cared to listen, which some of them did. On this especial August evening
Mrs. Frank was in an admonitory frame of mind. They had known Mr. Latrobe
barely three weeks, and yet as Mrs. Frank was sauntering around a turn in
Flirtation Walk, leaning on the arm of the cadet adjutant, there in the
pathway right ahead stood Nita, a lovely little picture with downcast
eyes, and "Pat" Latrobe bending over her with love and passion glowing in
his handsome face, pleading eagerly, clinging fervently to both her tiny,
white-gloved hands. Mrs. Garrison saw it all in the flash of a second,
the adjutant not at all, for with merry laughter she repeated some words
he had just spoken as though they were about the wittiest, funniest
things in the world, and looked frankly up into his eyes as though he
were the best and brightest man she had met in years--so his eyes were
riveted, and the tableau had time to dissolve. All the same that sight
gave Mrs. Garrison rather more than a bad quarter of an hour. She was
infinitely worried. Not because Pat Latrobe had fallen desperately in
love with her charming little sister--that was his lookout--but what--oh,
what might not happen if the charming little sister were to fall in love
with that handsome soldier boy. At all hazards, even if she had to whisk
her away to-morrow, that had to be stopped, and this very evening when
they went to their room Margaret spoke.

"Nita, if it were only for Mr. Latrobe I should not care a snap of my
finger, but it's you--_you_! I thought you had more sense. I thought you
_fully_ understood that you couldn't afford to lose yourself a moment,
and yet if ever a girl _looked_ like yielding you did this very
afternoon. For my