“I am sorry,” he repeated, and there was such depth of misery in his tone that she forbore to reproach him. “Does Mr. Benson know what you have done?” she asked. As in all her difficulties, she turned now as then, instinctively to the one person who had always been equal to the occasion. “Yes,” said the boy, “I told him;” but his face clouded. “What did he say? Didn't he think you had done very wrong?” questioned Virginia. Stephen nodded. “What did he propose?” “Never mind, Aunt Virginia, he proposed all sorts of things, but nothing that fits this case. I'm a member of Captain McKeever's Company, and I shall remain a member as long as there's any need of it. I've given my word, and I've put my name on the muster-roll. I can't take back my word, and I can't take off my name; but we don't know yet how much of a war there is going to be, no one thinks it is going to amount to much. I wish you wouldn't take it so seriously!” “Won't you tell me what Mr. Benson proposed, Stephen?” “There is no use thinking of him, Aunt Virginia, he can do nothing, for I shouldn't let him. And anyway, we have had a row about this very matter.” “You have quarrelled with Mr. Benson!” “If you choose to call it that—yes. Only I had rather not talk about it.” But there was one thing more he wished to tell her; and this was what had passed between Marian and him. He knew it would please her if possible, even less than the news of his enlistment; but he deemed it well to get it all over with at once, then they could adjust themselves the sooner to these new conditions which he had so suddenly created. “What else is there, Stephen?” Virginia asked. “How do you know there is anything else?” he inquired. “I can always tell; what is it?” “Haven't I told you enough for to-night?” he said. “I would like to know all.” “Do you know Mr. Benson's uncle?” he asked. “What about him?” “Well, do you know his wife?” “Slightly.” He gave her an embarrassed smile that she did not understand. “We Landrays are a proud lot; aren't we? Her husband could buy us out and never feel it—; pay all our debts into the bargain, too, and yet you don't know him or his wife, Aunt Virginia.” “There is no reason why I should know them.” “But what have you against them?” he persisted. “I have nothing against them; they are very worthy people in their way.” “Oh, Aunt Virginia!” cried the boy. “That's the last thing you can say of any one! I wish you knew her.” “Knew whom, Stephen?” “Well, Mrs. Benson, and Miss Benson—Marian—she's the prettiest girl in town.” “Has Mr. Benson permitted you to form an attachment of which I knew nothing? Did he take you to the house of those people for that?” “Those people!” scoffed the boy. “I wish you would be a little more generous, Aunt Virginia! It's unfair to judge her like that; and Mr. Benson don't know anything about it anyhow!” “What do you wish me to think, Stephen; for I suppose I am to take this as a confession of some sort.”