"Your happiness lasts well," I said.

"Lasts!" he exclaimed. "Why shouldn't it last!"

"There's no reason why it should not--at least, for a week," I said,
"and even longer, if you repeat your success."

I did not feel so much like congratulating Pepton as I had on the
previous evening. I thought he was making too much of his
badge-winning.

"Look here!" said Pepton, seating himself, and drawing his chair close
to me, "you are shooting wild--very wild indeed. You don't even see
the target. Let me tell you something. Last evening I went to see
Miss Rosa. She was delighted at my success. I had not expected this.
I thought she would be pleased, but not to such a degree. Her
congratulations were so warm that they set me on fire."

"They must have been very warm indeed," I remarked.

"`Miss Rosa,' said I," continued Pepton, without regarding my
interruption, "`it has been my fondest hope to see you wear the badge.'
`But I never could get it, you know,' she said. `You have got it,' I
exclaimed. `Take this. I won it for you. Make me happy by wearing
it.' `I can't do that,' she said. `That is a gentleman's badge.'
`Take it,' I cried, `gentleman and all!'

"I can't tell you all that happened after that," continued
Pepton. "You know, it wouldn't do. It is enough to say that she wears
the badge. And we are both her own--the badge and I!"

Now I congratulated him in good earnest. There was a reason for it.

"I don't owe a snap now for shooting an eagle," said Pepton, springing
to his feet and striding up and down the floor. "Let 'em all fly free
for me. I have made the most glorious shot that man could make. I
have hit the gold--hit it fair in the very centre! And what's more,
I've knocked it clean out of the target! Nobody else can ever make
such a shot. The rest of you fellows will have to be content to hit
the red, the blue, the black, or the white. The gold is mine!"

I called on the old ladies, some time after this, and found them alone.
They were generally alone in the evenings now. We talked about
Pepton's engagement, and I found them resigned. They were sorry to
lose him, but they wanted him to be happy.

"We have always known," said Miss Martha, with a little sigh, "that we
must die, and that he must get married. But we don't intend to repine.
These things will come to people." And her little sigh was followed by
a smile, still smaller.

End of Project Gutenberg's T