Dick Swinton went striding home, a prey to the bitterest humiliation. He had allowed his temper to get the better of him, and had disgraced himself in the eyes of his fellows. And the forget-me-not in his pocket! That had had much to do with it, of course. It was a silent appeal from the girl he loved, who had been his own, his very own, for only twenty-four sweet hours. He took out her letter, which he had not yet perused, and read it under a street lamp--the letter of a soldier's daughter, born and reared among soldiers. DEAREST, Of course you must go. Don't consider me. All the others are going. Our secret must remain sacred until your return. Your country calls, and her claim comes even before that of your own darling. Oh, I shall hate the days you are away, but it cannot be helped, can it? Father is already talking about your kit, and he wants you to come and see him that he may advise you what to buy and what to wear.--DORA. He groaned as he realized that this note should have been read earlier. It was too late now. CHAPTER IV DORA DUNDAS Dick Swinton spent a wretched night after his humiliation at the dinner. When he awakened, the sun of spring was shining on the quivering leaves of the trees along the drive. He opened his window and looked out. At the sound of the rattling casement, Rudd, who was at work on the lawn, looked up. Rudd was general factotum--coachman, gardener, footman,--and usually valeted his young master. Now, he hurried upstairs to Mr. Dick's bedroom, where he duly appeared with a pile of letters. "Mrs. Swinton and Miss Netty have breakfasted in their rooms, sir. The rector has gone out. And it's nine o'clock." Dick took the bundle of letters--bills all of them, except two, one of which was addressed in the handwriting of Dora Dundas. Rudd knew the outside of a bill as well as his young master, and had selected the love-letter from the others, and placed it first. When Dick was dressed, he opened the girl's letter, and his face softened: DEAREST, I hear that everything was settled last night, and I must see you this morning. There are many things to be talked of before the dreadful good-bye. I shall be in the Mall, but I can't stay long. Your loving, DORA. "She imagines I'm going," growled Dick, grinding his teeth and thinking of the shameful scene of last night. "Well, I'll show them all that I have the courage of my convictions." But, despite his declarations, his feelings were greatly confused, and, although he would not confess the fact even to himself, he was now consumed with chagrin that he had refused the chance of service. To be branded thus with cowardice was altogether insupportable!