Through her veil, her eyes reproached him. "No," she said; "no." He looked down at her in surprise. Never before had Little-Lovely Leila refused the offer of his valuable society. "You sit beside--Delilah," she said, nervously, "She's really your guest." "She is Porter's guest," he declared. "I don't see why you want to turn her over to me." Then as she endeavored to pass him, he caught her arm. "What's the matter?" he demanded. "Nothing," faintly, "Nothing----" scornfully. "I can read you like a book. What's happened?" But she merely shook her head and sat down, and then the bugle sounded, and the band began to play, and in came the cavalry--a gallant company, through the sun-lighted door, charging in a thundering line toward the reviewing stand--to stop short in a perfect and sudden salute. The drill followed, with men riding bareback, men riding four abreast, men riding in pyramids, men turning somersaults on their trained and intelligent steeds. One man slipped, fell from his horse, and lay close in the tan bark, while the other horses went over him, without a hoof touching, so that he rose unhurt, and took his place again in the line. Leila hid her eyes in her muff. "I don't like it," she said. "I've never liked it. And what if that man had been killed?" "They don't get killed," said Barry easily. "The hospital is full of those who get hurt, but it is good for them; it teaches them to be cool and competent when real danger comes." And now came the artillery, streaming through that sun-lighted entrance, the heavy wagons a featherweight to the strong, galloping horses. Breathless Leila watched their manoeuvres, as they wheeled and circled and crisscrossed in spaces which seemed impossibly small--horses plunging, gun-wagons rattling, dust flying--faster, faster---- Again she shut her eyes. But Mary Ballard, cheeks flushed, eyes dancing, turned to Porter. "Don't you love it?" she asked. "I love you----" audaciously. "Mary, you and I were born in the wrong age. We belong to the days of King Arthur. Then I could have worn a coat of mail and have stormed your castle, and I shouldn't have cared if you hurled defiance from the top turret. I'd have known that, at last, you'd be forced to let down the drawbridge; and I would have crossed the moat and taken you prisoner, and you'd have been so impressed with my strength and prowess that you would----" "No, I wouldn't," said Mary quickly. "Wait till I finish," said Porter, coolly. "I'd have shut you up in a tower, and every night I'd have come and sung beneath your window, and at last you'd have dropped a red rose down to me." They were laughing together now, and Delilah on the other side of Porter demanded, "What's the joke?" "There isn't any," said Porter; "it is all deadly earnest--for me, if not for Mary." And now a horse was down; there was a quick bugle-note, silence. Like clockwork, everything had stopped. People were asking, "Is anybody hurt?"