, do you know, to worry dear old dad--unless
he asked."

Armstrong's grave face grew dark: "You ought to know what I mean, Gray.
This story may come up when least you think for, and--would you have it
told Miss Lawrence before she hears it from you?"

"Miss Lawrence," answered Billy, flushing, "isn't in the least
interested."

"Do you mean that you are not--that you were not engaged to her?" The
colonel had been gazing out over the swirling river; but now, with
curious contraction of brows, with a strong light in his eyes, he had
turned full on the young officer.

"Engaged to her! Do you suppose I could have been--been such an ass if
_she_ would have had me? No! She--she had too much sense."

It was full a minute before Armstrong spoke again. For a few seconds he
sat motionless, gazing steadily into Gray's handsome, blushing face; then
he turned once more and looked out over the Pasig and the scarred level
of the rice fields beyond. And the long slant of the sunshine on distant
towers and neighboring roofs and copse and wall, and the unlovely
landscape seemed all tinged with purple haze and tipped with gold. The
blare of a bugle summoning the men to supper seemed softened by distance,
or some new, strange intonation, and gave to the ugliest of all our
service calls the effect of soft, sweet melody; and there was sympathy
and genuine feeling in the deep voice as he once again held out his hand
to Billy.

"Forgive me, lad, for I judged you more harshly than you deserved."

One lovely, summer-like evening, some five weeks later, in long, heaving
surges the deep blue waves of the Pacific came lazily rolling toward the
palm-bordered beach at Waikiki, bursting into snowy foam on the pebbly
strand, and, softly hissing, swept like fleecy mantle up the slope of
wet, hard-beaten sand, then broke, lapping and whirling, about the stone
supports of the broad _lanai_ of one of the many luxurious homes that dot
the curving line of the bay to the east of Honolulu. Dimly outlined in
the fairy moonlight, the shadowy mountains of the Waianai Range lay low
upon the western horizon. Eastward the bare, bold volcanic upheaval of
Diamond Head gleamed in bold relief, reflecting the silver rays. Here and
there through the foliage shone the soft-colored fires of Chinese
lanterns, and farther away, along the concave shore, distant electric
lights twinkled like answering signals to the stars in the vault of blue,
and the "riding lights" of