“Then we fell to chatting, and presently she said, ‘Madam Chew, Mr. Warder is to show me where the troops lay, and Mr. Wayne’s brigade; and who will come too?’ There were volunteers, but once outside they found it cold, and Darthea, saying, ‘We shall be gone but a minute,’ walked with me around the stone outbuilding to northwest. She was very thoughtful and quiet this night, looking as sweet as ever a woman could in a gray fur coat against the moon-lit drifts of snow. ‘Over there,’ I said, ‘across the road, were our poor little four-pounders; and beyond yonder wall our chief held a brief council of war; and just there in the garden lay my own men and Hugh, and some Maryland troops, among the box where we used to play hide-and-find.’ “On this Darthea said, ‘Let me see the place,’ and we walked down the garden, a gentle excitement showing in her ways and talk; and I--ah me, that night! “‘I must see,’ she said, ‘where the dead lie; near the garden wall, is it?’ “‘Here,’ said I--‘ours and theirs.’ “‘In the peace which is past understanding,’ said Darthea. Then, deep in thought, she turned from the house and into the woods a little beyond, not saying a word. Indeed, not a sound was to be heard, except the creak and craunch of the dry snow under our feet. A few paces farther we came to the summer-house, set on circular stone steps, and big enough to dine in. There she stood, saying, ‘I cannot go back yet; oh, those still, still dead! Don’t speak to me--not for a little while.’ She stayed thus, looking up at the great white moon, while I stood by, and none other near. “‘I am better now, Jack, and you will not tell of how foolish I was--but--’ “I said there was some sweet folly, if she liked so to call it, which was better than wisdom. And then how it was I know not, nor ever shall. I felt myself flush and tremble. It is my foolish way when in danger, being by nature timid, and forced to exercise rule over myself at such seasons. “She said, ‘What is it, Jack?’ for so she often called me when we were alone, although Hugh was Mr. Wynne. The ways of women are strange. “I could not help it, and yet I knew Hugh loved her. I knew also that she was surely to marry Mr. Arthur Wynne. I was wrong, but, God help us! who is not wrong at times? I said: ‘Darthea, I love you. If it were to be Hugh I should never say so.’ I cared nothing about the other man; he hates my Hugh.