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The patient gentleman smiled again as he said, "Oh--Gholson can attend to that."

"I've been awake for forty-eight hours, Major. But--oh, I'm not sleepy."

"Slightly."

"Oh, General, if you send an officer they'll see the ruse! I can do it! I'll do it all right!"

I stiffened proudly, turned and mounted my steed, but her eyes drew mine. I pressed close, bent over the saddle-bow, and said, "Good-bye, Camille."

"You were so anxious to get the General's letter?" I asked.

I failed to catch her reply. She spoke in a tone of pain and sunk her face in her hand. "Head ache?" I asked. "No." She straightened, and from under her coquettish hat bent upon me such a look as I had never seen. In her eyes, in her tightened lips, and in the lift of her head, was a whole history of hope, pride, pain, resolve, strife, bafflement and defiance. She could not have chosen to betray so much; she must have counted too fully on the shade of her hat-brim. The beautiful frown relaxed into a smile. "No," she repeated, "only an aching conscience. Ever have one?"

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