“Now, I tell you what I am going to do,” said Locker.  “I am going to wait a little while—­a very little while—­and then I shall bounce over my earthworks, and rush her position.  It is the only way to do it, and I shall be up and at her with cold steel.  And now I will tell you what you must do.  Just you hold yourself in reserve; and, if I am routed, you charge.  You’d better do it if you know what’s good for you, for that Austrian’s over there pulverizing his teeth and swearing in French because that Raleigh woman doesn’t get up and go.  Now, I won’t keep you any longer, but don’t go far away.  I can’t talk any more, for I’ve got to have every eye fixed upon the point of attack.”

Dick looked at the animated face of his companion, and began to ask himself if the moment had not arrived when even a promise made to Mrs. Easterfield might be disregarded.  Should he consent to allow his fate to depend upon the fortunes of Mr. Locker?  He scorned the notion.  It would be impossible for the girl who had talked so sweetly, so earnestly, so straight from her heart, when he had met her on the shunpike, to marry such a mountebank as this fellow, generous as he might be with that which could never belong to him.  As to the diplomat, he did not condescend to bestow a thought upon such a black-pointed little foreigner.

CHAPTER XXI

Miss Raleigh enjoys a Rare Privilege.

Miss Raleigh was very attentive to the instructions given her by Miss Asher, and while she exhibited the fashion of the new stitch Olive reflected.

“I wonder,” she said to herself, “if Mrs. Easterfield has done this.  It looks very much like it, and if she did I am truly obliged to her.  There is nothing I want so much now as a rest, and I didn’t want to stay in the house either.  Miss Raleigh,” said she, suddenly changing the subject, “were you ever in love?”

The secretary started.  “What do you mean by that?” she asked.

“I don’t mean anything,” said Olive.  “I simply wanted to know.”

“It is a queer question,” said Miss Raleigh, her face changing to another shade of sallowness.

“I know that,” said Olive quickly, “but the answers to queer questions are always so much more interesting than those to any others.  Don’t you think so?”

“Yes, they are,” said Miss Raleigh thoughtfully, “but they are generally awfully hard to get.  I have tried it myself.”

“Then you ought to have a fellow feeling for me,” said Olive.

“Well,” said the other, looking steadfastly at her companion, “if you will promise to keep it all to yourself forever, I don’t mind telling you that I was once in love.  Would you like me to tell you who I was in love with?”

“Yes,” said Olive, “if you are willing to tell me.”

“Oh, I am perfectly willing,” said the secretary.  “It was Mr. Hemphill.”

Olive turned suddenly and looked at her in amazement.