CHAPTER XVI
A SMILE ON WAR'S GRIM FACE
Miss Lou led the way to the broad, moonlit piazza. As Scoville followed, he saw that the girl was trembling violently, and he was thus able to grasp in some degree the courage she was manifesting in her first half-desperate essays toward freedom. "Poor child!" he thought, "her fright is surpassed only by her determination. How easily they could manage her by a little tact and kindness!"
She pointed to a chair near the hall door and faltered, "Lieutenant Scoville, I scarcely know whether I am doing right in seeing you here alone. I know little of the usages of society. I do not wish to appear to you unrefined."
"Miss Baron," he replied kindly, "I do not know why you have not the same right which other young ladies enjoy, of entertaining a gentleman at your home."
"Oh, I am so glad that you are not angry."
"I was never more lamb-like in my disposition than at this moment.
Moreover, I wish to thank you as a brave girl and a genuine lady."
She was almost panting in her strong excitement and embarrassment. "Please remember," she said, "that I do not wish to do or say anything unbecoming, but I know so little and have been so tried—"
"Miss Baron," and he spoke low for fear he would be overheard, "I already know something of what you have passed through and of your brave assertion of a sacred right. Continue that assertion and no one can force you into marriage. I have ridden nearly twenty-four hours to be here in time and to make some return for your great kindness, but you were so brave that you scarcely needed help."
"Oh! I did need it. I was so frightened and so desperate that I was almost ready to faint. My cousin is one who WILL have his own way. He has never been denied a thing in his life, I should have been taken away at least and then—oh, I just felt as if on the edge of a precipice. It seems dreadful that I should be speaking so of my kindred to a stranger and enemy—"