"To your home town?" she faltered.
"Yes. To Palmyra."
"Where your brother went to raise a company to fight us—strange, isn't it?" Her voice had a far-away sound as if she were talking to herself.
"Yes—to fight us," he repeated in low tones.
Again a silence fell between them. He looked steadily into her brown eyes that were burning now with a strange intensity, tried to speak, and failed. He caught the gasp of terror in the deep breath with which she turned from his gaze.
"My chief was bitter against my going—I—I hope you approve—Miss Betty?" He spoke with pauses which betrayed his excitement.
"Yes, I'm glad——"
She stopped short, turned pale and fumbled at the lace handkerchief she carried.
"Every brave man who loves the Union must feel as you do to-day—and go—no matter how hard it may be for those who—for those he leaves at home——"
She paused in embarrassment at the break she had almost made, and flushed scarlet.