’No, not angry, Ronald,’ and there was a bit of a strange and tender smile shining through the tears in the blue-gray eyes. ’Ay, indeed,’ said he, more gravely, ’that will be something for me; maybe, everything. I can scarcely believe that this has just happened—my heart’s in a flame, and my head’s gone daft, I think; and it seems as if there was nothing for me but to thank God for having sent you into the world and made you as unselfish and generous as you are. But that’s not the way of looking at it, my—my good lass. You have too little thought for yourself. Why, what a coward I should be if I did not ask you to think of the sacrifice you are making!’ ’I am making no sacrifice, Ronald,’ she said, simply and calmly. ’I spoke what my heart felt; and perhaps too readily. But I am going back to the Highlands. I shall stay there till you come for me, if ever you come for me. They spoke of my going for a while to my mother’s cousins; but I shall not do that; no, I shall be at Inver-Mudal, or wherever my father is, and you will easily get to know that, Ronald. But if things go ill, and you do not come for me—or—or, if ye do not care to come for me—well, that is as the world goes, and no one can tell before-hand. Or many years may go by, and when you do come for me, Ronald, you may find me a gray-haired woman—but you will find me a single woman.’ She spoke quite calmly; this was no new resolve; it was his lips, not hers, that were tremulous, for a second or so. But only for a second; for now he was all anxiety to cheer her and comfort her as regards the future. He could not bring himself to ask her to consider again; the prize was too precious; rather he spoke of all the chances and hopes of life, and of the splendid future that she had placed before him. Now there was something worth striving for—something worth the winning. And already, with the wild audacity that was now pulsating in his veins, he saw the way clear—a long way, perhaps, and tedious, but all filled with light and strewn with blossoms here or there (these were messages, or a look, or a smile, from Meenie), and at the end of it, waiting to welcome him, Love-Meenie, Rose-Meenie, with love-radiance shining in her eyes. He almost talked her into cheerfulness (for she had grown a little despondent after that first devotion of self-surrender); and by and by she rose from the bench. She was a little pale. ’I don’t know whether I have done well or ill, Ronald,’ she said, in a low voice, ’but I do not think I could have done otherwise. It is for you to show hereafter that I have done right.’ ’But do you regret?’ he said quickly. She turned to him with a strange smile on her face. ’Regret? No. I do not think I could have done otherwise. But it is for you to show to all of them that I have done right.’ ’And if it could only be done all at once, Meenie; that’s where the soldier has his chance——’