"Excuse me," said the man, coolly, preventing her by occupying the doorway. "You shall hear me! And hear this first of all. I am not saying anything about Major Lacy which is not a matter of public knowledge and which I have not said to him directly, and which I would not repeat in his presence." "You tell me that--" "You do not believe me?" "No." "I beg to assure you, Miss Glen, upon my word of honor--and it has not been questioned heretofore--that I told him these very things not longer than half an hour ago. And I informed him that I intended to tell you." "What did he say?" she asked, her curiosity getting the better of her for the moment. "He laughed. Said that the South had a present and pressing need for such as I," he replied with sturdy honesty, "but that he would take great pleasure in killing me when the war was over if we were both spared." "Well, sir, was not that a fine reply?" "It was. It was a gentleman's answer. I admired him for it and told him so. At the same time I told him that he must cease his attentions to you." "By what right did you dare--" cried the girl, almost choking with sudden and indignant protest. "No right. Unless my love for you, with a desire to serve you, greater than everything save my devotion to that flag yonder, can excuse me." "And that cannot. Unless love be returned, it entails no rights whatsoever." "And you do not love me?" "Love you!" cried the girl, scornfully. "I know you don't, but won't you?" he pleaded. "I won't!" "Won't you try?" "No!" "You do not dislike me?" "I hate you!" "Do you love Lacy?" "I will not allow you to question me!" "You must answer me!" said the man, taking her almost savagely by the arm, and in spite of herself she thrilled at his touch. "You hurt me," said the girl. "Nonsense! You hurt me more than I do you. Do you love this man?" "Why not? He has his failings, his weaknesses, but he fights against them, he tries to overcome them. The whole South knows him, loves him for his deeds, pities him for his failings. And I--" "Yes? You what?" "You shall see. Meanwhile before you depreciate a brother soldier, why don't you do something yourself? You are not in the same class." "I wouldn't say that, Miss Glen, if I were you," exclaimed Major Lacy, quietly entering the room through one of the long windows opening on the veranda. "Ah, Sempland, have you told your little tale?" [Illustration: "'Ah, Sempland, have you told your little tale?'"] "Yes." "Exposed me to this young lady?" "I have." "And condemned me as an utter scoundrel, a blackguard?" "Not quite. I told the truth," returned Sempland, calmly, "just as I said to you I would, and for that I am ready to answer in any way to please you. We can settle the matter when the war is over." "Very well. What did you say, Miss Glen?" continued Lacy, turning to that young woman. "I told him it wasn't true!" burst out the girl, impetuously.