She smiled graciously, her brown eyes sparkling with the conscious power which youth and beauty can never conceal.
She held out her soft warm hand and his trembling cold fingers grasped it.
"I'm sorry to have kept you, Ned," she began softly, "but I was dressing for the reception at the White House. I promised Mrs. Lincoln to help her."
"I didn't mind the wait, Miss Betty," he answered soberly. "Come into the garden--I can talk better there among your flowers--I never mind waiting for you."
"So are thousands of brave men, Ned. I've always known you'd go when the test came."
He bit his lips and was silent. It was hard, but he had to say it:
"I am going to fight for the South, Miss Betty."
The silence was painful. She looked steadily into his dark earnest eyes. There was something too big and fine in them to be met with anger or reproach. He was deadly pale and waited breathlessly for her to speak.
"You know that it costs me something to say this to you," he stammered.
"But it must be. It's a question of principle--a question that cuts to the bone of a fellow's life and character. A man must be true to what he believes to be right, mustn't he?"
His voice was tender, wistful, pleading. The sweet, young face upturned to his caught his mood:
"I couldn't be a real man and do less, could I?"
"No--but I'm sorry"--she paused and suddenly asked, "Your brother agrees with you?"
Ned frowned: "Why do you ask that question?"
"Because I was sure that he was on our side----"
"And I've always supposed he was a sort of guardian----"
"Only because he has always been my big brother and I've loved and admired him very much. I cried my eyes out the day he left home out in Missouri and came East to college."
"And yet, men who are not savages could only do such things drawn by the mightiest forces that move a human soul--you must know that, Miss Betty."
"There's only one thing in life that's bigger----"
"Is love. I've held it too high and holy a word to speak lightly. I shall tell but one woman that I love her----"
Pale and trembling he took her hand, led her to a seat and sank on his knees by her side.
"I love you, Betty!" he gasped. "I've loved you from the moment we met, tenderly, madly, reverently. I've been afraid to touch your hand lately lest you feel the pounding of my heart and know. And now it's come--this hour when I must say I love you and good-bye in the same breath! Be gentle and sweet to me. I'm afraid to ask if you love me. It's too good to be true. I'm not worthy to even touch your little hand--and yet I'm daring to hold it in mine----"