Wilfred, evidently much relieved at his mother’s departure, took the package from under his coat, put it on the table, and began to undo it. He took from it a pair of very soiled, dilapidated, grey uniform trousers. He had just lifted them up when he heard Caroline’s step on the porch, and the next moment she came into the room through the long French window. Wilfred stood petrified with astonishment at the sudden and unexpected appearance of his young beloved, but soon recovered himself and began rolling the package together again, hastily and awkwardly, while Caroline watched him from the window. She coldly scrutinised his confusion while he made his ungainly roll, and, as he moved toward the door, she broke the silence. “Ah, good-evening, Mr. Varney,” she said coolly. “Good-evening,” he said, his voice as cold as her own. They both of them had started for the hall door and in another second they would have met. “Excuse me,” said Caroline, “I’m in a hurry.” “That’s plain enough. Another party, I suppose, and dancing.” “What of it? What’s the matter with dancing, I’d like to know.” “Nothing is the matter with dancing if you want to, but I must say that it is a pretty way of going on, with the cannon roaring not six miles away.” “Well, what do you want us to do? Cry about it! I have cried my eyes out already; that would do a heap of good now, wouldn’t it?” “Oh, I haven’t time to talk about such petty details. I have some important matters to attend to,” he returned loftily. “It was you that started it,” said the girl. Wilfred turned suddenly, his manner at once losing its badly assumed lightness. “Oh, you needn’t try to fool me,” he reproached her; “I know well enough how you have been carrying on since our engagement was broken off. Half a dozen officers proposing to you—a dozen for all I know.” “What difference does it make?” she retorted pertly. “I haven’t got to marry them all, have I?” “Well, it isn’t very nice to go on like that,” said Wilfred with an air into which he in vain sought to infuse a detached, judicial, and indifferent appearance. “Proposals by the wholesale!” “Goodness me!” exclaimed Caroline, “what’s the use of talking about it to me. They’re the ones that propose, I don’t. How can I help it?” “Oh,” said Wilfred loftily, “you can help it all right. You helped it with me.” “Well,” she answered, with a queer look at him, “that was different.” “And ever since you threw me over——” he began. “I didn’t throw you over, you just went over,” she interrupted. “I went over because you walked off with Major Sillsby that night we were at Drury’s Bluff,” said the boy, “and you encouraged him to propose. You admit it,” he said, as the girl nodded her head.