the sunlight, was massed up by the binding
veil, which she pushed back now from her face. Her eyes, wide and dark,
were as sad as they were angry. Tears streamed from them down her cheek,
which she did not dry. Fearless, eager, she had, without thought,
intruded where the average woman would not have ventured, and she stood
now courageously intent only upon having the way of what she felt was
right and justice. There came to me as I looked at her a curious sense
that I and all my friends were very insignificant creatures; and it was
so, I think, in sooth, she held us.

"Captain Orme," said I to my opponent, "you observe the actual Supreme
Court of America!" He bowed to me, with a questioning raising of his
eyebrows, as though he did not like to go on under the circumstances.

"I am unfortunate to lead by a bird," said I, tentatively. For some
reason the sport had lost its zest to me.

"And I being the loser as it stands," replied Orme, "do not see how I
can beg off." Yet I thought him as little eager to go on as I myself.

"Miss Ellen," said Judge Reeves, removing the hat from his white hair,
"these gentlemen desire to be sportsmen as among themselves, but of
course always gentlemen as regards the wish of ladies. Certain financial
considerations are involved, so that both feel a delicacy in regard to
making any motion looking to the altering of the original conditions of
this contract. Under these circumstances, then, appeal is taken from
this lower Court"--and he bowed very low--"to what my young friend very
justly calls the Supreme Court of the United States. Miss Ellen, it is
for you to say whether we shall resume or discontinue."

The girl bowed to Judge Reeves, and then swept a sudden hand toward
Stevenson and Williams. "Go home, all of you!" she said.

And so, in sooth, much shamefaced, we did go home, Judge of the Supreme
Court, officers of the Army, and all, vaguely feeling we had been caught
doing some ignoble thing. For my part, although I hope mawkishness no
more marks me than another, and although I made neither then nor at any
time a resolution to discontinue sports of the field, I have never since
then shot in a pigeon match, nor cared to see others do so, for it has
never again seemed to me as actual sport. I think the intuitive dictum
of the Army girl was right.

"Now _wasn't_ that like Ellen!" exclaimed Kitty, when finally we found
ourselves at her carriage--"just _like_ that girl. Just _wasn't_ i