"He's asked you to marry him, I know that," said Captain Ross with such conviction that Olwen coloured a little with surprise. How did Captain Ross know about that? It was true, of course.... But he couldn't know quite _what_ had happened. She almost laughed at the memory of Harold Ellerton's face in the light of the torch. She hesitated.... It doesn't always follow that because a man is obstinate he may not be quick as well. It was very quickly that Captain Ross seized upon Olwen's hesitation, declaring, "He asked you on the night of the raid." As quickly Olwen asked, "Did he _tell_ you?" A pause. Then "There was no nid, Miss Howel-Jones. I thought, somehow, that there'd be somebody else I'd have to be congrrrrratulating very soon," said Captain Ross, with a sort of grim triumph in his tone. He straightened his back, giving that little forward shrug of an armless shoulder that Olwen could never see unmoved. But her eyes were on the window and on the glimpse of variegated Welsh landscape beyond. "Since that is so," concluded Captain Ross in his most final tone, "will you allow me to offer my very best wishes to yourself and to Mr. Ell----" "No! Please don't!" protested Olwen quickly. She felt that this misunderstanding had gone on long enough. Long enough. She turned from the window and looked straight----not at Captain Ross, that she couldn't do! but at a water-colour drawing of Carnarvon Castle on the wall. She said, "You see, I am not engaged or anything to Mr. Ellerton!" And even as she said it, she knew what a change her words had made. Without looking at him, she knew that Captain Ross's dark face had lighted up like a lantern into which a candle is put. She knew what he meant by that quick movement that he gave, as if rolling aside some weight that he'd been carrying. She knew, for sure and certain, why he'd come. Would he have cared about her being engaged to Mr. Ellerton if he hadn't wanted her himself? Of course he did want her.... Hadn't Golden said so? Wasn't that serene and lovely American always right? Hadn't Madame Leroux thought so, too? And hadn't she, Olwen herself, always known it too, in the very depths of her heart? Yes! Hadn't she always, always suspected his curt speech and his off-hand manner and his judgment of women? Always! A great and glowing delight filled the girl. For if he wanted her----oh, wasn't she his! Hadn't she been his all that time ago? All her denials of him since had been fibbing to herself, they had been making the best of things, they had been the hybernating sleep from which Love awakes as a giant refreshed! It had all been camouflage, and now there was no more need of it.... But even with this sweet and thrilling knowledge warm at her heart, the woman's Will-to-Prolong was strong within her, too. She was a human little person enough and she had her dignity, she thought. Also she had to have her laugh--oh, quite a little one! over this man.