The General had a man at the morning train who reported Gaston’s departure. He was surprised at Sallie’s good spirits but attributed it to the magnificent present he had given her that morning of a diamond ring and an exquisite pearl necklace. He bustled her off to the party that night and congratulated himself on the certainty of his triumph over an aspiring youngster who dared to set his will against his own. When the festivities had begun, and the children were busy with their fireworks, Sallie strolled along the winding walks of the big lawn. She was chatting with Bob St. Clare about a young man they both knew, and when they reached the corner furthest from the house, under the shadows of a great magnolia with low overhanging boughs she saw the figure of a man. She smiled into Bob’s face, pressed his hand and said, “Now, Bob you’ve done all a good friend could do. Go back. I don’t need you.” And Bob answered with a smile and left her. In a moment Gaston was by her side with both her hands in his kissing them tenderly. “Didn’t I surprise you, dear?” he softly asked. “No. Bob denied you were here, but I knew it was a story. I was sure you would never leave without seeing me. You couldn’t, could you?” “Not after what I saw in your eyes last night!” He whispered. “It seems a century since I’ve heard your voice,” she said wistfully. “God alone knows what I have suffered, and I am growing weary of it.” “Do you think I have been treated fairly?” he asked. “No, I do not” “Then you will write to me?” “Yes. I will not starve my heart any longer.” And she pressed his hand. “You have made the world glorious again! When will you marry me, Sallie?” he bent his face close to her, and for an answer she tenderly kissed him. They stood in silence a moment with clasped hands, and then she said slowly, “You didn’t want your freedom did you, dear? That’s the third kiss, isn’t it? I wonder if kissing will be always as sweet! But you asked me when we can marry? I can’t tell now. I can do nothing to shock Mama. She seems to draw closer and closer to me every day. And now that I have determined no power shall separate us, it seems more and more necessary that I shall win Papa’s consent. He loves me dearly. I feel that I must have his blessing on our lives. Give me time. I hope to win him.” “And you will never let another week pass without writing to me?” “Never. Send my letters to Bob. He loves you better than he ever thought he loved me. He will give them to me on Sundays at church, and when he calls.” For two hours the kindly mantle of the magnolia sheltered them while they told the old sweet story over and over again. And somehow that night it seemed to them sweeter each time it was told. CHAPTER IV--THE UNSPOKEN TERROR