is
admiration of the lovely creature who was the comfort and glory of his
life, nor restrain his tears at the thought, vague and improbable though
it was, that perhaps this war might, in some unaccountable way, carry
with it the destiny of his daughter, and change for ever the current of
their mutual existence. As she stood there before him, knowing her as he
did, or perhaps because he did not know her so well as he might have
done, he felt that she was about to make an important communication to
him, ask him something or pledge him to some course which would affect
him and her, and bring on precisely that mysterious result of which the
shadow was already in his mind. But before he had the time to say a word
either to quiet his fear or dissipate his conjecture, Zulma moved slowly
from her place and dropped softly before his knees. All the color of
her face, as she upturned it to his, was gone, but there was a melting
pathos in those blue eyes which fascinated the old man.

"Papa," she said, "will you allow me to ask you a favor?"

Sieur Sarpy felt a twinge in his heart, and his lips contracted. Zulma
noticed his emotion and immediately added:--

"I know that you are feeble, papa, and must not bear excitement, but
what I have to ask you is simple and easy of accomplishment. Besides, I
will leave you to judge and abide unreservedly by your decision."

Sieur Sarpy took his daughter's hand in his and replied:

"Speak, my dear, you know that I can refuse you nothing."

"You have resolved to be neutral in this war."

"That was my intention."

"Did you come to this resolution solely for your own sake?"

"For your sake and mine, dear. I am old and infirm, and cannot take part
in the struggles of strong men. You are young and I must guard your
future."

Zulma remained silent for a few moments, as if she could find no further
words to say. Her father, observing her embarrassment, brought back the
conversation to its original drift, by inquiring into the nature of the
demand which she had intended to make.

"I had intended to ask you my liberty of action," she said, with
suddenly recovered energy. "But I will not do so now. Circumstances will
perhaps occur to modify the situation for both of us before hostilities
have progressed very far. All I shall ask of you now is that you will
allow me to see that young officer again."

The old man, on hearing this innocent request, breathed more freely, as
he exclaimed:

"Why