e canonized him; she put his picture and his
sword, belt and epaulets in the conspicuous place in the parlor; she
used his record for gallantry to get herself social position and a
place of honor at public gatherings.

Her house stood back from the highway in a grove of elms and walnuts.
Its angularity was relieved by a porch with a flat roof that had a
railing about it and served as a balcony for the second-story lodgers.
There were broad halls through the middle of the house down-stairs and
up. Olivia and Pauline had the three large rooms in the second story
on the south side. They used the front room as a study and Pauline's
bedroom was next to it.

Late one afternoon she was seated at the study window watching a
cherry-red sun drop through the purple haze of the autumn. She became
conscious that some one was on the balcony before the window of the
front room across the hall. She leaned so that she could see without
being seen. Sharp against the darkening sky was the profile of a young
man. Olivia joined her and followed her glance. The profile remained
fixed and the two girls watched it, fascinated. It certainly was a
powerful outline, proud and stern, but with a mouth that was sweet in
its kindliness and gentleness.

"I wonder what he's thinking about," said Olivia, in an undertone; he
was not fifteen feet from them. "I suppose, some scheme for conquering
the world."

Most of Battle Field's youth came from the farms of that western
country, the young men with bodies and brains that were strong but
awkward. Almost all were working their way through--as were not a few
of the women. They felt that life was a large, serious business
impatiently waiting for them to come and attend to it in a large,
serious way better than it had ever been attended to before. They
studied hard; they practised oratory and debating. Their talk was of
history and philosophy, religion and politics. They slept little; they
thought--or tried to think--even more than they talked.

At a glance this man was one of them, a fine type.

"He's handsome, isn't he?" said Pauline.

"But--" She did not finish; indeed it was not clear to her what the
rest of her protest was. He reminded her of Dumont--there was the same
look of superiority, of the "born to lead." But his face seemed to,
have some quality which Dumont's lacked--or was it only the idealizing
effect of the open sky and the evening light?

When the bell rang for suppe