ine on two million, is it?"

"Captain Thesel is just like all the other fellows.... But you're not
a bit like them."

"Is that a compliment or otherwise?"

"I'll say it's a compliment," she replied, with arch eyes on his.

"Thank you."

"Well, you don't deserve it.... You promised to make a date with me.
Why haven't you?"

"Why child, I--I don't know what to say," returned Lane, utterly
disconcerted. Yet he liked this amazing girl. "I suppose I forgot. But
I've been ill, for one reason."

"I'm sorry," she said, giving his arm a squeeze. "I heard you were
badly hurt. Won't you tell me about your--your hurts?"

"Some day, if opportunity affords. I can't here, that's certain."

"Opportunity! What do you want? Haven't I handed myself out on a
silver platter?"

Lane could find no ready retort for this query. He gazed at her,
marveling at the apparently measureless distance between her exquisite
physical beauty and the spiritual beauty that should have been
harmonious with it. Still he felt baffled by this young girl. She
seemed to resemble Lorna, yet was different in a way he could not
grasp. Lorna had coarsened in fibre. This girl was fine, despite her
coarse speech. She did not repel.

"Mr. Lane, will you dance with me?" she asked, almost wistfully. She
liked him, and was not ashamed of it. But she seemed pondering over
what to make of him--how far to go.

"Bessy, I dare not exert myself to that extent," he replied, gently.
"You forget I am a disabled soldier."

"Forget that? Not a chance," she flashed. "But I hoped you might dance
with me once--just a little."

"No. I might keel over."

She shivered and her eyes dilated. "You mean it as a joke. But it's no
joke.... I read about your comrade--that poor Red Payson!" ... Then
both devil of humor and woman of fire shone in her glance. "Daren, if
you _did_ keel over--you'd die in my arms--not on the floor!"

Then another partner came up to claim her. As the orchestra blurted
forth and Bessy leaned to the dancer's clasp she shouted audaciously
at Lane: "Don't forget that silver platter!"

Lane turned to Blair to find that worthy shaking his handsome head.

"Did you hear what she said?" asked Lane, close to Blair's ear.

"Every word," replied Blair. "Some kid!... She's like the girl in the
motion-pictures. She comes along. She meets the fellow. She looks at
him--she says 'good day'--then _Wham_, into his arms.... My God!...
Lane, is that kid good or bad?