At last he brought about an explanation that disturbed his equanimity not a little. He had called in the morning, and she had chatted charmingly with him on impersonal matters, pleasing him by her intelligent and gracefully spoken ideas on the topics broached. As a society girl she met him on this neutral ground without the slightest restraint or embarrassment. As he also talked well she had no scruple in enjoying a pleasure unsought by herself, especially as it might lead to the punishment which she felt that he deserved. Smilingly she had assured herself, when he was announced, "If he's a rebel at heart, as I've been told, I've met the enemy before either Mr. Lane or Mr. Strahan." When Merwyn rose to take his leave he held out his hand and said: "I shall be absent two or three days. In saying good-by won't you shake hands?" She laughingly put her hands behind her back and said, "I can't." "Will not, you mean?" "No, I cannot. I've made a vow to give my hand only to my own friends and those of my country." "Do you look upon me as an enemy?" "Oh, no, indeed." "Then not as a friend?" "Why, certainly not, Mr. Merwyn. You know that you are not my friend. What does the word mean?" "Well," said he, flushing, "what does it mean?" "Nothing more to me than to any other sincere person. One uses downright sincerity with a friend, and would rather harm himself than that friend." "Why is not this my attitude towards you?" "You, naturally, should know better than I." "Indeed, Miss Vosburgh, you little know the admiration you have excited," he said, gallantly. An inscrutable smile was her only response. "That, however, has become like the air you breathe, no doubt." "Not at all. I prize admiration. What woman does not? But there are as many kinds of admiration as there are donors." "Am I to infer that mine is of a valueless nature?" "Ask yourself, Mr. Merwyn, just what it is worth." "It is greater than I have ever bestowed upon any one else," he said, hastily; for this tilt was disturbing his self-possession. Again she smiled, and her thought was, "Except yourself." He, thinking her smile incredulous, resumed: "You doubt this?" "I cannot help thinking that you are mistaken." "How can I assure you that I am not?" "I do not know. Why is it essential that I should be so assured?" He felt that he was being worsted, and feared that she had detected the absence of unselfish good-will and honest purpose toward her. He was angry with himself and her because of the dilemma in which he was placed. Yet what could he say to the serene, smiling girl before him, whose unflinching blue eyes looked into his with a keenness of insight that troubled him? His one thought now was to achieve a retreat in which he could maintain the semblance of dignity and good breeding.