A Little Traitor to the South | Page 5

yourself? You are not in the same class."
"I wouldn't say that, Miss Glen, if I were you," exclaimed Major Lacy, quietly entering the room through one of the long windows opening on the veranda. "Ah, Sempland, have you told your little tale?"
[Illustration: "'Ah, Sempland, have you told your little tale?'"]
"Yes."
"Exposed me to this young lady?"
"I have."
"And condemned me as an utter scoundrel, a blackguard?"
"Not quite. I told the truth," returned Sempland, calmly, "just as I said to you I would, and for that I am ready to answer in any way to please you. We can settle the matter when the war is over."
"Very well. What did you say, Miss Glen?" continued Lacy, turning to that young woman.
"I told him it wasn't true!" burst out the girl, impetuously.
"Ah, but it is," said Lacy, softly. "I am all that he says, and more, too."
"But look at what you have done."
"But little, after all. I heard you reproaching Sempland for what he had not done when I came in. That isn't fair. No braver man lives than Rhett Sempland. Why, did it not take courage to defy me, to tell me to my face that I was a scoundrel, a blackguard? And it took more courage to defy custom, convention, propriety, to come here and tell you the same things. No, Miss Glen, Sempland only lacks opportunity. Fortune has not been kind to him. In that settlement after the war there will be a struggle I'll warrant you."
"See! He can speak nobly of you," cried Fanny Glen, turning reproachfully to Sempland.
"I never said he was not a gentleman, could not be a gentleman, that is, when he was--when he wished to be one, that is, as well as a brave man. He has good blood in him, but that doesn't alter the case. He isn't a fit match for you, or for any woman. I am not speaking for myself. I know my case is hopeless--"
"Gad!" laughed Lacy, "you have tried then and lost? It's my turn then. Miss Glen, you have heard the worst of me this afternoon. I have been a drunkard, a scoundrel. I have fallen low, very low. But sometimes I am a gentleman. Perhaps in your presence I might always be. I can't tell. I'm not sure. Will you take me for your lover, and in good time your husband, under such circumstances? Faith, I'm afraid it'll not be for better, but for worse."
Sempland said nothing. He would not interfere now. Fanny Glen must answer for herself. He clenched his teeth and strove to control himself. In spite of his efforts, however, the blood flamed into his dark face. Fanny Glen grew very white, her blue eyes shone like stars in the pallor of her face under her fair hair. She hesitated. She looked from one to the other. She could not speak. She was too conscious of that stern iron figure. Yet she would have given worlds to say "yes" to Lacy's plea.
"Choose, Miss Glen," said Lacy, at last. It was hard for him to wait for anything. "You stand between us, you see. I warn you if you do not take me, you will take Sempland. Look at him,--" he smiled satirically,--"he always gets what he wants. He is the very incarnation of bulldog tenacity and resolution. If I don't get you, he certainly will."
"How dare you comment upon me?" cried Sempland.
"Patience, my good sir," said the other, coolly. "You commented upon me in my absence. I comment upon you in your presence. The advantage is mine. As I said, Miss Glen, it is a choice between us. Do not choose me, if you should be so fatuously inclined, because I happen to have had some chances for distinction, for I assure you, on my honor, all there is left of it, that if Sempland gets half a chance he'll do better than I. Choose because you love him--or me."
The girl stared from one to the other in indignant bewilderment. Lacy was an ideal lover. Sempland looked like a stern master, and she hated a master. She made a half step toward the handsomer and weaker man, and a half turn toward the homelier and stronger. In her heart of hearts she found in that moment which she preferred. And, as love is wayward, in the knowledge came a surprise for her--and it brought shame. Lacy was handsome and gallant and distinguished, in spite of all, but Sempland was strong--a man indeed.
"Oh!" she cried, looking at him, "if you only had done something great or--"
"What!" he cried, his face alight.
But she turned instantly away. In her words Lacy, more subtile and more used to women, read her preference and his rejection. But he smiled bravely and kindly at her in spite of his knowledge.
"Major Lacy,"