Again the General hesitated. He was a big-hearted man of generous impulses, and he felt worsted in this interview somehow, but it was hard to deny such a request. He fumbled at his watch chain, arose, and said, “I will see if she desires it.” Gaston’s heart bounded with joy! If she desired it! He could feel her soul enveloping him with its love as he sat there conscious that she was somewhere in that house praying for him! He fairly choked with the pain and the joy of the certainty that in a moment he would be near her, touch her hand, see her glorious beauty and his ears drink the music of her voice. “Just step this way,” said the General, re-appearing at the door. Gaston walked into the hall and met Sallie as she emerged from the library door opposite. He tried to say something, but his throat was dry and his tongue paralysed with the wonder of her presence! Besides, the General stood grimly by like a guard over a life prisoner. He looked searchingly into her eyes as he held her hand for a moment and felt its warm impulsive pressure. Oh! the eyes of the woman we love! What are words to their language of melting tenderness, of faith and longing. Gaston felt like shouting in the General’s face his triumph. She tried to speak, but only pressed his hand again. It was enough. He bowed to the General, and left without a word. CHAPTER III--A WHITE LIE THAT night as he walked back through the streets he was thrilled with a sense of strength and of triumph. He knew his ground now. There was to be war between him and the General to the bitter end. He had never asked her once to oppose her father’s or mother’s command. Now he would see who was master in a test of strength. And he was eager for the struggle. His mind was alert, and every nerve and muscle tense with energy. “Heavens, how hungry I am!” he exclaimed when he reached the brilliantly lighted business portion of the city. He went into a restaurant, ordered a steak, and enjoyed a good meal. He recalled then that he had not eaten for twenty-four hours. The steak was good, and the faces of the people seemed to him lit with gladness. He was singing a battle song in his soul, and the eyes of the woman he loved looked at him with yearning tenderness. “Now, Bob, I count on you,” he cried to his friend next morning. “I am going to have a merry Christmas and you are to aid in the skirmishing.” “I’m with you to the finish!” Bob responded with enthusiasm. “We must make a feint this morning to deceive the enemy while I turn his flank. I go home on the nine o’clock train. You understand?” “Yes, over the left. It’s dead easy too. There’s to be a big Christmas party to-night at the Alexanders’. She’s invited. I ’ll see that she goes to it if I have to drag her.” “Good. Don’t tell her I’m in town. I want to surprise her.”