Betty waited a few days to see if Fortescue's visit had roused any latent suspicions in the Colonel's mind, but, seeing it had not, one day when it was soft and mild as on the day of days when Fortescue had told her of his love, she walked in the little garden with the Colonel and told him all. "But I don't mean to desert you, granddaddy," she said firmly. "I don't know how it is coming out, and neither does Jack"--for by that time Fortescue had become "Jack" to Betty--"but I hate a deserter, you know." "It wouldn't be desertion, my dear," said the Colonel. "And it would be a base thing of me to spoil your life, my little Betty. But, as you say, a way will be found. Don't let us trouble about it until Christmas, then, as you say, Fortescue will try to get a leave that will give him a week at Rosehill, and we shall see. I think perhaps I could get on pretty well at Holly Lodge with Cesar and Tulip and Kettle." "Do you mean," cried Betty indignantly, "that you could get on pretty well without me? Oh, what a wicked old grandfather you are!" "But if you will come to see me sometimes," said the Colonel, anxious to find a way. In due time the letter to the Colonel came from Fortescue, and the Colonel answered it in his dignified, old-fashioned manner. He did not wish and would not permit himself to be a bar to his granddaughter's happiness. After a time, when their affection had been tested, he would give his consent to the marriage. The officers came, and the camp was pitched, and much work was done. Likewise, much eating, drinking, dancing, riding, boating, and picnicing with the county people. It was the old story of Christmas week transferred to spring. Betty appeared to be as keen over the lieutenants as Sally Carteret or any girl in the county, nor did she feel any qualms of conscience when two second lieutenants each told her at different times that he could not live without her. Betty was a little unfeeling toward her admirers, and her tears were but crocodile tears when she told the lieutenants that she could not leave her grandfather--except for that---- Here Betty broke down prettily, and the lieutenants were in despair. But they speedily recovered from their disappointment and found other outlets for their affections. Betty, the trifler, was serious enough, however, where Fortescue was concerned. The spring melted into summer and on a day black for Sally Carteret and the other gay young things in the county the camp was broken and the officers departed. Luckily, though, it was at the season when the University students returned to the county, bringing many of their fellow students with them, so that there was balm in Gilead. As for Betty, she was quite willing to play with the University students, as she had with the second lieutenants. But deep down in her heart they mattered little. There was only one man for her, and that was Lieutenant John Hope Fortescue.