she said very coolly, “I wish nothing of the kind.”

“You do not trust me.”

“Why, yes, as I trust every man — except a red one.”

“Yet, I tell you that all that animates me is a desire to render you a comrade’s service — — ”

“And I thank you, Mr. Loskiel, because, like other men, you mean it generously and well. Yet, you are an officer in the corps d’�lite; and you would be ashamed to have the humblest bugler in your regiment see you with such a one as I.”

She broke another morsel from her bread:

“You dare not cross a camp-parade beside me. At least the plaything of an officer should walk in silk, whatever clothes a soldier’s