meditatively.

"And ours, of course, is _this_ dance," I went on.

"If I could only remember all the names--" she began hesitatingly.

"I was introduced as Jack C., of Virginia."

"Yes? And in what arm?"

"Cavalry," I replied promptly. "Do you not see the yellow?" I gestured
toward the facings. "You who belong to the Army ought to know."

"Why do you think I belong to the Army?" she asked, in a voice whose low
sweetness was enough to impel any man to catch the mask from her face
and throw it down the nearest well.

"You belong to the Army, and to Virginia," I said, "because you asked me
what is my arm of the service; and because your voice could come from
nowhere but Virginia. Now since I have come so far to see you and have
found you out so soon, why do you not confess that you are Miss Ellen?
Tell me your name, so that I may not be awkward!"

"We have no names to-night," she answered. "But I was just thinking;
there is no Jack C. in the _Gazette_ who comes from Virginia and who
wears a captain's straps. I do not know who you are."

"At least the game then is fair," said I, disappointed. "But I promise
you that some time I shall see you face to face, and without masks.
To-morrow--"