"On the contrary, he said expressly they were not for me. There is no blue in this lot of wools, I must have left it upstairs. 'Tis a shame I have to mount those steps again. I hope you will have that skein wound by the time I find the blue one." At the door she paused and looked back archly at Eustace; then, blowing a kiss to Betty's unconscious back, she went away, shutting the door softly behind her. "God bless you, Betty dear; I hope I am acting for your happiness," she said to herself on the stairs. Betty added to her soft ball in unruffled silence for a minute. Then, glancing up, she met Eustace's gaze, and her hand faltered in its winding. "Do you know for whom I brought the roses?" he asked, bending toward her. "Stay, Master Singleton, you are dropping the skein--and you promised to be so patient." "True, true; I have it all in a mess. Wind your ball up closer that we may pass it through this loop." And so they set themselves, with here a turn and there a backward twist, to that old task of unravelling the snarled skein. Now and then their fingers touched, and both hands trembled and both faces reddened; Eustace's from the exquisite pleasure of the contact, for never before had they been so alone, so near together, and out of pure joy he would have prolonged the happiness. But the shadows were already lengthening backward to the east, and with nightfall he must be away. And so when Betty's little hand was again near to his he seized it in both of his. "Betty--sweetheart--I love you!" The thread was snapped apart, and the ball fell to the floor, but he held her hands fast. "Nay, you must listen to me, for this night I go away to bear my share in the war, perchance to give my life for the cause I hold to be right. But before I go I must tell you what is in my heart--tell you that I love you as a man loves the woman to whom he gives his name, with whom he leaves his honour. And not only must I tell you that, but I must hear you say that, believing as I do, you do not blame me for going to the war. You do not blame me, do you?" Her hands lay still in his, but her head was bent so low he could not see into her eyes. "This war means everything to me, for the enemies of the king against whom I shall have to fight are my neighbours and acquaintances, and, worse still, the near and dear relatives of my love. Under such circumstances you do not think I would fight save from principle?" "No." "And you do not condemn the step I am taking, even though it sets me against your dear ones? I cannot see things as they do." She lifted her head and looked at him squarely for a moment. "Every man should follow the dictates of his conscience." "I knew your heart would recognize the justice of my case. And when it is all over, and I come back, you will not let this stand between us--you will be my wife?"