In the weeks which followed the trip to Fort Myer, Mary found an
astonishing change in her brother. For the first time in his life he
seemed to be taking things seriously. He stayed at home at night and
studied. He gave up Jerry Tuckerman and the other radiant musketeers.
She did not know the reason for the change but it brought her hope and
happiness.
Barry saw Leila often, but, as yet, no one but Delilah Jeliffe knew of
the tie between them.
"I ought to tell Dad," Leila had said, timidly; "he'd be very happy.
It is what he has always wanted, Barry."
"I must prove myself a man first," Barry told her, "I've squandered
some of my opportunities, but now that I have you to work for, I feel
as strong as a lion."
They were alone in the General's library. "It is because you trust me,
dear one," Barry went on, "that I am strong."
She slipped her little hand into his. "Barry--it seems so queer to
think that I shall ever be--your wife."
"You had to be. It was meant from the--beginning."
"Was it, Barry?"
"Yes."
"And it will be to the end. Oh, I shall always love you, dearly,
dearly----"
It was idyllic, their little love affair--their big love affair, if one
judged by their measure. It was tender, sweet, and because it was
their secret, because there was no word of doubt or of distrust from
those who were older and wiser, they brought to it all the beauty of
youth and high hope.