pathway right ahead stood Nita, a lovely little picture with downcast eyes, and "Pat" Latrobe bending over her with love and passion glowing in his handsome face, pleading eagerly, clinging fervently to both her tiny, white-gloved hands. Mrs. Garrison saw it all in the flash of a second, the adjutant not at all, for with merry laughter she repeated some words he had just spoken as though they were about the wittiest, funniest things in the world, and looked frankly up into his eyes as though he were the best and brightest man she had met in years--so his eyes were riveted, and the tableau had time to dissolve. All the same that sight gave Mrs. Garrison rather more than a bad quarter of an hour. She was infinitely worried. Not because Pat Latrobe had fallen desperately in love with her charming little sister--that was his lookout--but what--oh, what might not happen if the charming little sister were to fall in love with that handsome soldier boy. At all hazards, even if she had to whisk her away to-morrow, that had to be stopped, and this very evening when they went to their room Margaret spoke. "Nita, if it were only for Mr. Latrobe I should not care a snap of my finger, but it's you--_you_! I thought you had more sense. I thought you _fully_ understood that you couldn't afford to lose yourself a moment, and yet if ever a girl _looked_ like yielding you did this very afternoon. For my sake, for your own sake, Nita, don't let it go any further--_don't_ fall in love--here--whatever you do." The younger sister stood at the dressing table at the moment, her face averted. The Mary Powell was just rounding the Point, and the mellow, melodious notes of her bell were still echoing through the Highlands. Nita was gazing out on the gorgeous effect of sunset light and shadow on the eastern cliffs and crags across the Hudson, a flush as vivid mantling her cheeks, her lip quivering. She was making valiant efforts to control herself before replying. "I'm _not_ in love with him," she finally said. "Perhaps not--yet. Surely I hope not, but it looked awfully like it was coming--and Nita, you simply mustn't. You've got to marry money if I have to stand guard over you and see you do it--and you know you can this minute--if you'll only listen." The younger girl wheeled sharply, her eyes flashing. "Peggy, you promised me I shouldn't hear that hateful thing again--at least not until we left here--and you've broken your word--twice. You----" "It's because I must. I can't see you drifting--the way I did when, with your youth and--advantages you can pick and choose. Colonel Frost has mines and money all over the West, and he was your shadow at the seashore, and all broken up--he told me--so when we came here. Paddy Latrobe is a beautiful boy without a penny--" "His uncle--" began Nita feebly.