"And why Braxton Bragg, who is a coward," she cried indignantly, "did go to West Point, after he stole that parchment and read it. And as proof of it, when grandfather was trying to persuade me to listen to Colonel Goff, he told me he was going to leave The Home Stretch so that it would go to Braxton Bragg after Aunt Lucretia's death."
In an instant I saw it all. I understood things that I had given no serious thought to before.
"Yes, I am out," I agreed.
"Jack, Little Brother, I hope I haven't made you unhappy on your first night at home."
I did not speak; she sighed.
"And so I am going to marry Colonel Goff, Jack, and be the Countess of Carfax, and you'll do as I say—you'll make-believe with me. I'd so hate to have Aunt Lucretia know now."
"I'll go on as if it were I," I said bitterly. "I'd do anything for you, Eloise—and—and I do hope you'll be happy yet."
She shook her head: "Jack, you do not know me—that kind of happiness that I have craved all my life is not for me, and it is so hard that it should be, for I have always had such beautiful dreams of that kind of happiness—I, who could love so if I only might—I who wish it so, to be widowed of it all my life."
"I could make you if you'd only wait—give me a chance to prove mine—to make you love me, Eloise."
"It is too late. O, Jack, you deserve better of me than this; you do not deserve so poor return as this make-believe—a make-belief—only this—a little sisterly kiss," and she held up her face in the starlight to mine.