She stood with her hands behind her, her head turned a little from him, but held very proudly. A strong woman, evidently; a passionate one, perhaps; a devoted one, if the right man were found. Fessenden, studying her covertly, realized that for the second time that day he had encountered a girl who stirred in him an interest novel and delightful. "Tell me about it, Miss Yarnell," he said at last. "I've only heard that you refused to enter the cotillion room so long as the Stars and Stripes decorated the doorway, and that finally you took down the flag with your own hands. I remember the _Evening Post_ had a solemn editorial on the sinister significance of your alleged performance. It couldn't have been true--I realize that now that I know you. No one could accuse you--you of--that is----" "Of vulgarity. Thank you for being too kind to say it. But I'm afraid most of it's true." "I can't believe it." She turned a grateful glance upon him. His steady, reassuring smile seemed to give her a long-needed sense of comfort and protection. In spite of herself, her eyes fell before his, and her cheeks reddened a little. "I'll tell you all about it," she said. "I did it on a dare. A year ago I was unbelievably silly--I've learned a great deal in a year. A man dared me--and I did it." "I don't acquit you--quite; but what an egregious cad the man must have been!" "No, no, don't think that. He never dreamed I would really dare. But I was determined to show him I wasn't afraid--wasn't afraid of anything--not even of him." "Of him?" "Yes." "O-oh!" he said slowly. "I see. Well, _were_ you afraid--afterward?" She swung her hands from behind her back and struck them together with a sudden gesture of anger. "No, but I hated him. I hate him! Not that he wasn't game. When I turned to him with that dear flag dangling in my hand, he swept me off in a two-step, flag and all. But he smiled. Oh, how he smiled!" She drew a long breath. "D---- his smile!" Her desperate little oath was only pathetic. "I can see that triumphant twist about the corner of his mouth now, like a crooked scar." "Good Lord! Charlie Danton!" Her startled look confirmed the guess her words denied. "No, no." "By Jove! don't I know that smile? We were in college together, you know, and I've made him put on the gloves with me more than once on account of that devilish smile. But I'll do him the justice to believe that he didn't really suppose you'd take that dare." He interrupted himself to laugh a little. "How seriously we're talking! After all, it's no great matter if a--a rather foolish girl did a rather foolish thing." She refused to be enlivened. "I had it out with him," she said. "And since then we haven't seen anything of each other. You heard what Pinckney Cresap said just now?" "About Danton and the possibility of a duel?" "Yes. I'm afraid that's partly my fault. I sent him away, and----" "I see. If he's weak enough to seek consolation in that way, he deserves to lose you."