"I saw so much that I can never hope to forget it," he answered bitterly.
He led her to a seat and she flushed with the sudden realization that he had been holding her hand since the moment they met. She drew it away with a quick, nervous movement, and sat down abruptly.
"Was it really as bad as it looks to-day?" she asked with an attempt at conventional tones.
"Worse, Miss Betty. You can't imagine the sickening shame of it all. I was never in a battle before. I wouldn't mind repeating that experience at close quarters—but the panic——"
"The President is the coolest and most courageous man in the country to-day," she put in eagerly. "It's inspiring to talk to him."
A bitter speech against a Commander-in-Chief who could allow himself to be driven into a battle by the chatter of fools rose to his lips, but he remembered her admiration and was silent. He fumbled at his watch chain and pulled the corner of his black moustache with growing embarrassment. The thing was more difficult than he had dreamed.
"I have resigned from the paper," he said at last.
"Resigned?" she repeated mechanically.
"Yes. I'm going back home to-night and help raise a company in answer to the President's proclamation."
The room was very still. Betty turned her eyes toward the window and listened to the splash of the wind driven rain.