“Only a few years,” said the man passionately. His voice was low and gently modulated, not because he had anything to conceal but because of the softness of the moonlight and the few candles dimly flickering upon the walls of the great room, the look in the girl’s eyes, and the feeling in his heart. A few minutes, the girl had said!—Ah, it was indeed a few years to him. “If it was a few years to you,” returned the girl with a violent effort at lightness, although her heart was torn to pieces with the emotions of the moment, “what a lot of time there is.” “No,” said Thorne, “there is only to-night.” Edith threw out her hand to check what she would fain have heard, but Thorne caught it. He came closer to her. “There’s only to-night, and you in the world,” he said. “You overwhelm me.” “I can’t help myself. I came here determined not to tell you how I loved you, and for the last half hour I have been telling you nothing else. I could tell you all my life and never finish. Ah, my darling, my darling,—there’s only to-night and you.” Edith swayed toward him for a moment, completely influenced by his ardour, but then drew back. “No, no,” she faltered. “You mustn’t.” She glanced around the room apprehensively. “No, no, not now!” “You are right,” said the man. She dragged herself away from him. He would not retain her against her will, and without a struggle he released her hand. “You are right. Don’t mind what I said, Miss Varney. I have forgotten myself, believe me.” He drew further away from her. “I came to make a brief call, to say good-bye, and——” He turned and walked toward the hall door, after making her a low bow, and it was not without a feeling of joy that she noticed that he walked unsteadily, blindly. “Oh, Captain Thorne,” she said, just as he had reached the door, “I——” He stopped and looked back. “Before you go I want to ask your advice about something.” “My advice!” “Yes, it seems to be a military matter, and——” “What is it?” asked Thorne, turning back. “What do you think this means?” said the girl, handing him the folded despatch. She had intended to look him full in the face as he took it, but at the last moment her courage failed her. She looked away and did not see the instant but quickly mastered start of surprise. She was only conscious that Thorne had possessed himself of the document. “What is it?” asked Thorne, holding it in his hand. “That is what I want you to tell me,” said the girl. “Oh, don’t you know?” said Thorne, now entirely master of himself. “No,” answered the girl, but there was something in her voice which now fully aroused the suspicions of the man. “It appears to be a note from some one,” he said casually, “but it is so dark in here. With your permission, I will light some of the candles on the table, and then we can see what it is.”