to know once for all that
the man had his official approval. Soon Sanda's relationship to the
Colonel of the First Regiment of the Foreign Legion would be known, and
there must be no stupid gossip regarding the scene at the station. As
they passed the other officers and their guests (who for these few
dramatic moments had discreetly awaited developments, outside the
platform gate), Colonel DeLisle lingered an instant to murmur; "It is my
daughter, who has come unexpectedly. A young friend whom I can trust to
see her to the hotel will take her there, and I am at your service when
I have put them into a cab."

"What do you think?" cried Sanda, as the rickety vehicle rattled them
toward the nearest gate of the walled town. "Have I failed with him--or
have I succeeded?"

"Succeeded," Max answered. "Don't you feel it?"

"I hoped it. Oh, Mr. Doran, I am going to love him!"

"I don't wonder," Max said. "I'm sure he's worth it."

"Yet I saw by your look when I spoke of him before, that you were
thinking him heartless."

"I had no right to think anything."

"I gave you the right, by confiding in you. But I didn't confide enough,
to do my father justice. I knew he wasn't heartless, though he couldn't
bear the sight of me when I was a baby, and put me out of his life. He
has always said that a soldier's life was not for a young girl to share.
I knew he had a heart, _because_ of that, not in spite of it. It was
that he loved my mother so desperately, and I'd robbed him of her. Now
you've seen him, you must let me tell you a little----"

"Would he wish it?"

"Yes, if he knew why, and if he knew you, and what you are going through
at this time. He fell in love with my mother at first sight in Paris,
and she with him. He was on leave, and she was there with her parents
from Ireland. He'd never meant to marry, but he was swept off his feet.
Mother's people wouldn't hear of it. They took her home in a hurry, and
tried to make her marry some one else. She nearly did--because they were
stronger than she. She wrote father a letter of good-bye, to his post in
the southern desert, where he was stationed then. He supposed, when he
read the letter, that she was already married when he got it. But
suddenly she appeared--as unexpectedly as I appeared to-day. She'd run
away from home, because she couldn't live without him. Oh, how well I
understand her! Think of the joy! It was like waking from a dreadful
dream for both of them. They