"I call it treachery--the betrayal of his country for his selfish ambitions! I'm surprised that you sympathize with him." John frowned, was silent and then turned to her with a smile: "Let's not talk about it, dear. The day's too beautiful. We're alone together. This is not your battle--nor mine--it's Pope's--let him fight it out. I love you--that's all I want to think about to-day." The golden brown curls were slowly shaken: "It _is_ your battle and it's mine--O John dear, I'm heartsick over it! The President's anguish clouded the morning for me, but the thought of you made me forget. Now I'm scared. You've surprised and shocked me." "Nonsense, dear!" he pleaded. She looked at him with quick, eager yearning. "You love me?" she asked. "Can you doubt it?" "With every beat of your heart?" "Yes." "Will you do something for me?" she begged. "What is it?" "Just for me, because I ask it, John, and you love me?" "If I can." "I want you to resign immediately from McClellan's staff, report at the War Department and let the President give you new duties----" The man shot her a look of angry amazement: "You can't mean this?" Again the soft, warm hand that had slipped its glove grasped his. He could feel her slim, little fingers tremble. She had turned very pale: "I'm in dead earnest. I love you, dear, with my whole heart, and it's my love that asks this. I can't think of you betraying a solemn trust. The very thought of it cuts me to the quick. If this is true, General McClellan should be court-martialed." The man's square jaws closed with a snap: "Let them try it if they dare----" "The President will dare if he believes it his duty." "Then he'll hear something from the hundred and fifty thousand soldiers who have served under McClellan." The little hand pressed harder. "Won't you, for my sake, dear,--just because I'm your sweetheart and you love me?" The stalwart figure suddenly stiffened: "And you could respect a man who would do a thing like that?" "For my sake?--Yes." "No, you think you could. But you couldn't. No woman can really love a poltroon or a coward." "I'm not asking you to do a cowardly thing----" "To desert my leader in a crisis?" "To wash your hands of treachery and selfish ambitions." "But it's not true," he retorted. "You mustn't say that. McClellan's a leader of genius--brave, true, manly, patriotic." "I've a nobler ideal of patriotism----" "Your blundering backwoodsman in the White House?"