"Ah! I am glad you draw the line somewhere. Half the misery in the world results from young people's thinking themselves wiser than their natural advisers. If they can merely say their consciences are against what their elders know is right and best, we have anarchy in the fountainhead of society--the family," and he glared for a moment at his niece. "What you say seems very true, Mr. Baron. I should be glad to know where YOU draw the line? Independent action must begin at some period." While Mr. Baron hesitated over this rather embarrassing question Miss Lou startled all her kindred by saying, "I did not intend to take any part in this conversation, but a glance from my uncle makes his last remark personal to me. I am at least old enough to ask one or two questions. Do you think it right, Lieutenant Scoville, that a woman should never have any independent life of her own?" "Why, Miss Baron, what a question! Within the received limits of good taste a woman has as much right to independent action as a man." "Well, then, how can she ever have any independence if she is treated as a child up to one day of her life, and the next day is expected to promise she will obey a man as long as he lives?" The angry spots in Mrs. Baron's cheeks had been burning deeper and deeper, and now she spoke promptly and freezingly, "Mr. Scoville, I absolve you from answering one who is proving herself to be neither a child nor a refined woman. I did not expect this additional humiliation. If it had not occurred I would have taken no part in the conversation. Mr. Baron, I think we have granted even more than the most quixotic idea of courtesy could demand." "'Granted? demand?' surely there is some mistake, madam," said Scoville with dignity, as he rose instantly from the table. "I have asked nothing whatever except that you should dismiss your fears as far as I and my men are concerned." Mrs. Whately was provoked equally at herself and all the others. She now deeply regretted that she had not left the Union officer to obtain his supper where and how he could, but felt that she must smooth matters over as far as possible. "Lieutenant Scoville," she said hurriedly, "you must make allowances for people in the deepest stress of trouble. We did intend all the courtesy which our first remarks defined. Of course you cannot know our circumstances, and when words are spoken which cut to the quick it is hard to give no sign. Perhaps our hearts are too sore and our differences too radical--" and she hesitated. "I understand you, madam," said Scoville, bowing. "I can only repeat my assurances of your safety and express my regret--"