about them to-night," she answered; why?"

"It looks now as if there were a chance of the Republicans winning," he
answered. But it was elation that caught his voice, not gloom.

"You mean that this white trash Lincoln may be President?" she exclaimed,
seizing his arm.

"Never!" he cried. "The South will not submit to that until every man who
can bear arms is shot down." He paused. The strains of a waltz mingled
with talk and laughter floated out of the open window. His voice dropped
to a low intensity. "We are getting ready in Company A," he said; "the
traitors will be dropped. We are getting ready to fight for Missouri and
for the South."

The girl felt his excitement, his exaltation.

"And if you were not, Max, I should disown you," she whispered.

He leaned forward until his face was close to hers.

"And now?" he said.

"I am ready to work, to starve, to go to prison, to help--"

He sank back heavily into the corner.

"Is that all, Jinny?"

"All?" she repeated. "Oh, if a woman could only do more!"

"And is there nothing--for me?"

Virginia straightened.

"Are you doing this for a reward?" she demanded.

"No," he answered passionately. "You know that I am not. Do you remember
when you told me that I was good for nothing, that I lacked purpose?"

"Yes, Max."

"I have thought it over since," he went on rapidly; "you were right. I
cannot work--it is not in me. But I have always felt that I could make a
name for myself--for you--in the army. I am sure that I could command a
regiment. And now the time is coming."

She did not answer him, but absently twisted the fringe of his buckskins
in her fingers.

"Ever since I have known what love is I have loved you, Jinny. It was so
when we climbed the cherry trees at Bellegarde. And you loved me then--I
know you did. You loved me when I went East to school at the Military
Institute. But it has not been the same of late," he faltered. "Something
has happened. I felt it first on that day you rode out to Bellegarde when
you said that my life was of no use. Jinny, I don't ask much. I am
content to prove myself. War is coming, and we shall have to free
ourselves from Yankee insolence. It is what we have both wished for. When
I am a general, will you marry me?"

For a wavering instant she might have thrown herself into his
outstretched arms. Why not, and have done with sickening doubts? Perhaps
her hesitation hung on the very boyishness of his proposal. Perhaps