And they would all do her honor after the unveiling. Andrew could almost see old General Clopton stand with bared head and feel the thrill with which the audience would listen to what would be a tender tribute to the war women. A wave of passionate joy swelled up in his heart--he _wanted_ them to cheer her and love her and adopt her! It was her baptism into her heritage! And he gloried in it. Then across his joy came a curious stifling depression--he found himself listening as if some one had called him, called for help. The music was dying away in the distance and the cheers became fainter and fainter until their echo seemed almost a sob. Before he had time to realize what he did he descended the stair, crossed the street and let himself into the Buchanan house. He stood just within the library door and listened again. A profound stillness seemed to beat through the deserted rooms--then he saw her! She sat with her arms outspread across the table and her head bent upon a pile of papers. She was tensely still as if waiting for something to sound around her. "Caroline!" It was the first time he had called her by her name and though the others had done it from the first, she had never seemed to notice his more formal address. It was beyond him to keep the tenderness that swept through every nerve out of his voice entirely. "Yes," she answered as she raised her head and looked at him, her eyes shining dark in her white face, "I know I'm a coward--did you come back to make me go? I thought they might not miss me until it was too late to come for me. I didn't think--I--could stand it--please--please!" "You needn't go at all, dear," he said as he took the cold hands in his and unclasped the wrung fingers. "Why didn't you tell them? They wouldn't have insisted on your going." "I--I couldn't! I just could not say what I felt to--to--_them_. I wanted to come--the statue suggested itself--for her. I ought to have given it and gone back--back to my own life. I don't belong--there is something between them all and me. They love me and try to make me forget it and--" "But, don't you see, child, that's just it? They love you so they hold you against all the other life you have had before. We're a strong love people down here--we claim our own!" A note in his voice brought Andrew to his senses. He let her hands slip from his and went around the table and sat down opposite to her. "And so you ran away and hid?" He smiled at her reassuringly. "Yes. I knew I ought not to--then I heard the music and I couldn't look or listen. I--why, where did you come from? I thought you were in the parade with David. I felt--if you knew you would understand. I wished that I had asked you--had told you that I couldn't go. Did you come back for me?"