"You see, it's Tallmadge money!" Val resented a little his whimsical look. She drew herself up. "You can't expect us Ganos—" She broke off as he took a letter out of his pocket and unfolded it. "Oh!" She turned a sudden scarlet and grasped at the incriminating document.
"No, no," he said. "I was defrauded of this letter a long time by an imbecile postal system. But I'll take good care of it now I have got it."
"I—I was very young when I wrote it."
"—a little over a year ago," he completed her sentence, laughing.
"Please don't think I'm wanting you to help me now."
"Well, that's a good thing," he said, with an unexpected hardness, "for I haven't the smallest intention of doing so."
Val's eyes were angry and bright with drops of humiliation.
"I wouldn't take it if you begged me to," she said.
"Don't you see, dear Val"—he leaned nearer, but she averted her face from him—"don't you see that, at all events until Emmie is older, you can't desert the Fort?" No answer. "Don't be angry with me, little cousin. Don't you feel how much your own people need you?" Still no answer. "Seventy-five!" he went on; "you mayn't have long to wait."
She turned on him sharply.