"I didn't," replied Bob; "nothing was further from my mind than enlisting at that moment."
Everything seemed unreal between them. Neither of them was saying what was in their hearts; they seemed to be speaking only for the purpose of making conversation.
"Have you seen Captain Trevanion?" he asked, after an awkward silence. "I heard—that is, I was given to understand, he was wounded; not dangerously, you know, but still, wounded. The doctor assured me he would get better."
He saw a quick flush rise to the girl's pale face, as he spoke; he saw her lips tremble too, but she did not answer him. His heart became as heavy as lead: "Then it is true," he reflected. "Mother was right; they are engaged. Still, I must bear up as best I can. I will not give her pain by telling her what it means to me."
"Oh, Bob, will you forgive me?" she burst out suddenly.
"I—of course, there's nothing to forgive," he answered. "What have I to forgive?"
"I called you a coward," she cried; "I insulted you, and all the time you were braver than I dreamed of. Why, you actually saved him, and in doing so you risked your life in the most horrible way. It was wonderful of you—just wonderful; and I—I—— Oh, I'm so ashamed, Bob!"
"I see what she means," thought Bob; "she's trying to tell me how thankful she is to me for having saved her lover for her."
"I hope you are not worrying about that," he said, and by this time he was able to speak calmly. "I was awfully lucky, and, after all, it was not so difficult; I came back quite safe—not a shot touched me."
"He simply won't see what I mean," was the thought that burned its way into her brain, "or else he hates me. Yes, that is it; he must hate me. How could it be otherwise, when I insulted him in the Public Hall, when I made him the laughing-stock of the whole town?"