ecial mission, and that you have run away from your duties
tonight to mingle with the social life of the city."

"Or rather, Your Excellency, to acquaint myself with their society,"
Stephen replied good-naturedly.

"Then you do not relax, even for an evening," inquired Peggy, with a
coquettish turn of the head.

"It is the duty of a soldier never to relax." Stephen's reply was more
naive than usual.

"And yet one's hours are shortened by pleasure and action," continued
Peggy.

"As a recreation it is far sweeter than as a business. It soon exhausts
us, however, and it is the greatest incentive to evil."

"But you dance?" interrupted the General.

"Oh, yes! Your Excellency," replied Stephen, "after a fashion."

"Well, your partner is longing for the music. Come, let ye assemble."

And as the dance was announced, the first one being dedicated to "The
Success of the Campaign," Stephen and Marjorie moved off and took their
places. Peggy and her sisters were soon attended and followed. They were
soon lost in the swirl of excitement among the throng.

II

"And you live alone with your father and mother?"

Marjorie and her partner were sitting in a distant corner whither they
had wandered at the conclusion of the dance. Stephen began to find
himself taking an unusual interest in this girl and was inquiring
concernedly about her home life.

"Yes, Father's time is much consumed with his attention to the shop.
Mother and I find plenty to occupy us about the house. Then I relieve
Father at times, and so divide my hours between them," quietly answered
Marjorie.

"You have not as yet told me your name," Stephen reminded her.

"Marjorie," was the timid reply.

"Marjorie!" Then, taking advantage of her averted look, he stole secret
glances at her small round face, her lips, firmly set but curving
upwards, her rose-pink cheeks. Presently, his eye rested on her
finger-ring, a cameo with what looked like an ectypal miniature of the
"Ecce Homo." Was this girl of his faith?

"Marjorie Allison," he repeated again. "Do you know that sounds like a
Catholic name?"

"It is," Marjorie replied proudly. "Our family have been Catholics for
generations."

"Mine have, too," Stephen gladly volunteered the information. "Irish
Catholics with a history behind them."

"Is your home here?" asked Marjorie.

"Here in this country, yes," admitted her escort. "But I live in New
York and it was there I volunteered at the outbreak of