"Yet I am not indifferent to men.... And have used men gently.... And forgiven them.... Being not hard but pitiful by disposition." She made a movement of unconscious grace and drew from her bosom the little picture of Steve Watts. "You see," said she, "I guard it tenderly. But he went off in a passion and rebuked me bitterly for my coquetry and because I refused to flee with him to Canada.... He, being an enemy to liberty, I would not consent.... I love my country.... And better than I love any man." "He begged an elopement that night?" "Yes." "With marriage promised, doubtless." "Lord," says she, "I had not thought so far." "Did he not promise it?" "No, sir." "What? Nor mention it?" "I did not hear him." "But in his courtship of a year surely he conducted honestly!" I insisted angrily. "Should a man ask marriage when he asks love, Mr. Drogue?" "If he means honestly he must speak of it." "Oh.... I did not understand.... I thought that love, offered, meant marriage also.... I thought they all meant that--save only Sir John." We both fell silent. After a little while: "I shall some day ask Captain Watts what he means," said she, thoughtfully. "Surely he must know I am a maiden." "Do you suppose such young men care!" I said sullenly. But she seemed so white and distressed at the thought that the sneer died on my lips and I made a great effort to do generously by my old school-mate, Stevie Watts. "Surely," said I, "he meant no disrespect and no harm. Stephen Watts is not of the corrupt breed of Walter Butler nor debauched like Sir John.... However, if he is to be your lover--perhaps it were convenient to ask him something concerning his respectful designs upon you." "Yes, sir, I shall do so--if he comes hither again." So hope, which had fallen a-flickering, expired like a tiny flame. She loved Steve Watts! I turned and limped up the stairway. And, at the stair-head, met Nick. "Well," said I savagely, "you may not have her. For she loves Steve Watts and dotes on his picture in her bosom. And as for you, you may go to the devil!" "Why, you sorry ass," says he, "have you thought I desired her?" "Do you not?" "Good God!" cried he, "because this poor and moon-smitten gentleman hath rolled sheep's eyes upon a yellow-haired maid, then, in his mind, all the world's aflame to woo her too and take her from his honest arms! What the plague do I want of your sweetheart, Jack Drogue, when I've one at Pigeon Wood and my eye on another, too!" Then he fell a-laughing and smote his thighs with a loud slapping. "Aha!" he cried, "did I not warn you? Did I not foresee, foretell, and prophesy that you would one day sicken of a passion for this yellow-haired girl from Caughnawaga!" "Idiot," said I in a rage, "I do not love her!" "Then you bear all the earmarks!" said he, and went off stamping his moccasins and roaring with laughter.