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 "My riding quirt," said the girl. There was a bright red spot on either cheek, but her voice was quiet and contained.

"What do you want of that?" asked Halsey dumfounded. "You are not going to ride, are you?"

"I want it to use on you. You are a traitor to your Uncle Hillery, to your aunt, to me, and to your state."

Halsey looked thunderstruck. For several seconds he stood gazing at his cousin. Then he stepped quietly to her side and pulled the quirt from between the papers.

"Here it is, Peg," he said, folding his arms and facing her, "I am ready."

She took the whip dazedly and raised it as though to strike. But it fell from her nerveless hands with a clatter to the floor. Then with a wild cry of pain she threw herself in her cousin's arms.

"Oh, Halsey, forgive me, forgive me," she sobbed. "I am such a firebrand. But I had dreamed of you as a Colonel in the Confederate army."

They did not speak again. The hearts of