"Come into my room," said Anderson.
She followed him there, and as he closed the door she answered his questioning look by running into his arms and hiding her face.
"Wal, I'll be dog-goned!" the rancher ejaculated, with emotion. He held her and patted her shoulder with his big hand. "Tell me, Lenore."
"There's little to tell," she replied, softly. "I love him—and he loves me so—so well that I've been madly happy—in spite of—of—"
"Is that all?" asked Anderson, dubiously.
"Is not that enough?"
"But Dorn's lovin' you so well doesn't say he'll not go to war."
And it was then that forgotten bitterness returned to poison Lenore's cup of joy.
"Ah!"… she whispered.
"Good Lord! Lenore, you don't mean you an' Dorn have been alone all the time these few days—an' you haven't settled that war question?" queried Anderson, in amaze.