"She was here awhile ago," replied Peyton, glumly, not bringing his eyes within range of the smile. "She went that way. I trust you've recovered from your attack." "My attack?" inquiringly, with surprise. "The queer spell, I think Miss Philipse called it. She said you were subject to them." "Well, how does she dare--" She checked her tongue, lest she might betray the device for his detention. Something in his absent, careless way of associating her with a queer spell irritated her a little for the moment, and impelled her to retaliation. "I suppose that was not the only thing she said to you?" she added, ingenuously. "No,--she said other things." He rose and went to the fireplace, leaned against the mantel, and gazed pensively at the red embers. "They don't seem to have left you very cheerful," ventured Miss Sally. "Not so very damned cheerful!--I beg your pardon." Miss Sally's moment of resentment had passed. Now was the time to strike for herself. She thought she had hit on a clever plan of getting around to the matter. "Captain," said she, "you're a man of the world. I know it's presumptuous of me to ask it, but--if you would give me a word of advice--" Peyton did not take his look from the fire, or his thoughts from their dismal absorption. He answered, half-unconsciously: "Oh, certainly! Anything at all." "You are aware, of course," she went on, with smirking, rosy confusion, "that Mr. Valentine is a widower." "Indeed? Oh, yes, yes, I know." "Yes, a widower twice over." "How sad! He must feel twice the usual amount of grief." "Why,--I don't know exactly about that." "The poor man has my sympathy. Doubtless he is inconsolable." Peyton scarce knew what he was saying, or whom it was about. "Why, no," said Miss Sally, averting her eyes, with a smiling shyness, "not altogether inconsolable. That's just it." "Oh, is it?" said Peyton, obliviously. "You may have noticed that he spends a good deal of time here at present," she went on. "A good deal of time," he repeated. "There's doubtless some strong attraction." "Yes. Perhaps I oughtn't to say it, but there _is_ a strong attraction. In fact, he has proposed marriage to me, and now, as a man of the world to a woman of little experience, would you advise me to accept him?" And she looked at the disconsolate officer so sweetly, it seemed impossible he should do aught but say it would be throwing herself away to bestow on an old man charms of which younger and warmer eyes were sensible. But he answered only: "Certainly! An excellent match!" For a time Miss Sally was speechless, yet open-mouthed. And then, for the length of one brief but fiery tirade, she showed herself to be her niece's aunt: