"No, thank you; I can go by myself, if there is no military order against it; but you may take Queen to the stables, if you like." She dismounted, taking no note of his proffered assistance, and went to the river without another word. He watched her until she landed, then turned away, leading Queen. "A rose, a little rose," he said to himself; "but, oh, the thorns!" When Beatrice arrived, she found the family in a state of high excitement. Mackenzie was just preparing to go over to the Fort and ask that a search party be sent out to look for her. He had surmised that she had returned to Fort Wayne until he found that none of her things were missing, and he received her explanation in stolid silence. "Why didn't you tell us, Bee?" asked Mrs. Mackenzie. "You gave us all a fright." "Dear Aunt Eleanor," she cooed, rubbing her soft cheek against Mrs. Mackenzie's, "I'm so sorry. I didn't know I was going till I got ready to start,--I never know,--and I did not dream that any one would care." Robert had been conducting a private search on his own account, and a tell-tale relief crossed his face when he came in and found her at the breakfast table. "Were you worried about me, Cousin Rob?" The deep, vibrant contralto voice thrilled him, but he told his lie well. "No," he answered, carelessly, "of course not. Why should I be?" The new mood of softness lasted all day. Beatrice did not stop to analyse, but she was dimly conscious that something strange had happened to her. At twilight she went out on the piazza, humming happily to herself, and Robert smiled at her as she came toward the open window of his room. He had an old sword in his hand and was rubbing the thin blade with a handkerchief. "What are you doing?" she asked, curiously. "Just cleaning this." "Is it yours?" "Yes, it is now; but it was my grandfather's." He straightened instinctively, as if in answer to some far-away bugle, and looked at her without seeming to see. "He fought at Lexington." His voice betrayed his pride of blood, and his nostrils dilated with a quick, inward breath. His hands moved lovingly along the keen blade--and then Beatrice humbled herself. "Cousin Rob," she began, impulsively, "I want to tell you something. I'm sorry and ashamed for----" Scarlet signals were flaming in her cheeks, and he interrupted her. "Say no more about it," he said generously; "we were all unaccountably excited, and at such times we say and do things that otherwise we would not. Forget about it." "I'll be glad to," she answered earnestly; but in her heart of hearts she knew she was not forgiven. CHAPTER X A GLEAM AFAR