'my lady-ed'--by you--any
longer."

"Betty! O Betty!" he cried yearningly.

"John!" she sighed, "Jack!" And lifting her head she looked at him
with eyes brimful of tears, tears that would not be winked away, so she
dabbed at them with her handkerchief and sobbed again. The Major
stepped hastily into the arbour.

"Betty?" he questioned in awed wonderment.

"Yes--I'm weeping, sir," she confessed. "I'm shedding--real tears and
'tis not a custom of mine, sir--consequently 'tis not so easy as to
faint or--swoon. I hate to--sob and weep, and I--despise
tears--besides they hurt me, John." He came a quick step nearer. "O
'tis very cruel to make a poor maid weep--how can you, John dear?"

"I?" he exclaimed aghast, "I--make you weep?"

"Indeed you--you! O cruel!"

"In heaven's name, how--what have I done?"

"Heaped coals of fire, John! Burnt me! Scorched me!"

The Major stared, utterly at a loss and fumbled with one of his
tarnished buttons; then, seeing his bewilderment, she laughed through
her tears and, choking back her sobs, rose and stretched out her arms
to him.

"John," she murmured, "you dear, noble, generous Jack--ah, don't you
see? When I made a public mock of you the other day, you hid your pain
for my sake--and to-day, O to-day you come ready and willing to aid my
brother heedless of risks and dangers. And now--now you--stand so--far
off! John dear, if--if you won't sit down--prithee come a little
nearer for me--just to--touch you."

Now hearing the thrill in her voice, beholding the melting tenderness
of her look, his doubts were all forgotten and his stern resolutions
swept clean away; so he came near, very near and, sitting down, clasped
her yielding loveliness to the shabby, war-worn Ramillie coat.

"My dear, brave, noble John," she sighed, "and I such a beast to thee!
To make a mock of thee for fools to laugh at--but none so great a fool
as I--yes, Jack I repeat----" But here the Major closed her
self-accusing lips awhile. "Yes, dear John," she continued, "I was a
positive beast--though 'tis true you did anger me vastly!"

"How?" he questioned, drawing her yet nearer.

"You would not heed my signals--my fan, my handkerchief, both
unregarded."

"Fan?" he repeated. "Handkerchief? You mean--Egad!" His fervent arms
grew suddenly lax and he sighed. "Dear," said he, shaking rueful head,
"I fear you do find me very obtuse, very dull and stupid, not at all
the man----"

"The only