"All right, Sister," he said, with a little shame-faced twitch of the lips. "Parole d'officier."
The girl rose and drew her a step aside.
"Do forgive me, Sister. We have only been married five months—when he was last home on leave—and, you understand, don't you, what it would have meant to me if——"
"Of course I do. Anyhow, you can be perfectly reassured. But I must warn you," she whispered, and looked through narrowed eyelids into the girl's eyes; "he may be dreadfully disfigured."
The girl shrank terrified, but she cried,
"I hope I shall love him all the more for it!"
"I hope so, too," replied Camilla soberly. "I'll say good-by," she added, in a louder tone, holding out her hand.
"I'll see you again to-morrow?" the girl asked politely.
"I'm afraid not."
"What's that?" cried Shileto.