emotion strong and sweet. He refused her friendship because he did not
dare accept it; because his life was not his own; because he was a
borderman.

While they stood thus, Jonathan looking perplexed and troubled,
feeling he had hurt her, but knowing not what to say, and Helen with a
warm softness in her eyes, the stalwart figure of a man loomed out of
the gathering darkness.

"Ah, Miss Helen! Good evening," he said.

"Is it you, Mr. Brandt?" asked Helen. "Of course you know Mr. Zane."

Brandt acknowledged Jonathan's bow with an awkwardness which had
certainly been absent in his greeting to Helen. He started slightly
when she spoke the borderman's name.

A brief pause ensued.

"Good night," said Jonathan, and left them.

He had noticed Brandt's gesture of surprise, slight though it was, and
was thinking about it as he walked away. Brandt may have been
astonished at finding a borderman talking to a girl, and certainly, as
far as Jonathan was concerned, the incident was without precedent.
But, on the other hand, Brandt may have had another reason, and
Jonathan tried to study out what it might be.

He gave but little thought to Helen. That she might like him
exceedingly well, did not come into his mind. He remembered his sister