Arthur felt as if she had struck him. He was about to remonstrate, when Edmonia broke in upon the conversation with her greeting. But Dorothy had seen his face and read all that it expressed. The old Dorothy was tempted to ask his forgiveness; the new Dorothy dismissed the thought as quite impossible. She had already sufficiently “compromised” herself by her impulsiveness, and to make amends she put stays upon her dignity and throughout the evening they showed no sign of bending. Arthur was tortured by all this. Edmonia was delighted over it. So differently do a man and a woman sometimes interpret another woman’s attitude and conduct. Arthur was compelled to leave them at nine to meet Governor Letcher, who had summoned him for consultation with respect to the organization of a surgical staff, of which he purposed to make Arthur Brent one of the chiefs. Before leaving he asked as to Edmonia’s and Dorothy’s home-going plans. Learning that they intended to go by the eight o’clock train the next morning, he said: “Very well, I’ll send Dick up by the midnight train to have the Wyanoke carriage at the station to meet you.” “Is Dick with you?” Dorothy asked with more of enthusiasm than she had shown since her outbreak on the bridge. “How I do want to see Dick! Can’t you send him here before train time, please?” Already grieved and resentful, Arthur was stung by the manner of this request. For the moment he was disposed to interpret it as an intended affront. He quickly dismissed that thought and answered with a laugh: “Yes, Dorothy, he shall come to you at once. Perhaps he has a ‘song ballad’ ready for your greeting. At any rate he at least will pleasantly remind you of the old life.” “I wonder why he put it in that way--why he said ‘he _at least_,’” said Dorothy when Arthur had gone and the two women were left alone. “I think I know,” Edmonia answered. But she did not offer the explanation. Neither did Dorothy ask for it. XXXVII AT WYANOKE