ated, but
why should I? Surely he must already begin to perceive the truth. "That
she should have left him lying there until I was safely across the river
is the only act which tells hard against Le Gaire. No woman could have
done that, Major Hardy, if she really loved the wounded man."

He did not reply, evidently endeavoring to realize all my meaning.

"This is where you have made your mistake," I went on convincingly.
"Nothing is holding your daughter to Le Gaire but her promise. I was
obliged to overhear their conversation after you left, and he appealed
to her pride, to the honor of the Hardys, in order to gain her consent
to the marriage. She told him she no longer loved him, that he was not
the man she had supposed him to be--actually begged for release. I can
understand the situation, and, it seems to me, you ought to now. He is a
handsome fellow, dashing and reckless, the kind to make an impression.
She was flattered by his attentions, and deceived into the thought that
she really cared for him. Then she saw his true nature--his selfishness,
brutality, cowardice, even--and revolted. I doubt if I had anything to
do with this change--it was bound to come. You are a man, Major Hardy,
and must know men--is Le Gaire the kind you would want your daughter
to marry?"

"By Gad! the way you put it--no!" emphatically. "I've thought well
enough of him until to-night; probably he's kept his best side turned
toward me, and, besides, it never once occurred to me that Billie didn't
want him. I've heard stories about the man, pretty hard ones at that,
but he appeared like a gentleman, and I naturally supposed them largely
fairy tales. Because I felt sure Billie liked him, I did also, but
to-night he has shown me the other side of his character. Still, I don't
know that I wonder much at his hating you."

"I have given him all the cause I could--would gladly give more if
possible."

Hardy's eyes twinkled.

"I reckon your heart is all right, even if your uniform is the wrong
color. But, young man, this affair puts me in a queer box. I spoke up
rather hastily a while back, and now here I am seconding a damned Yankee
in a fight against one of our own men--it don't just look right."

"I merely accepted your own offer; no doubt my sergeant would act."

"Oh, I'll stay. The fact is, I rather like you, Lieutenant--eh, what is
the name? Oh, yes, Galesworth--you see Billie never even so much as
mentioned having met you. Anyway, I'