She's hell-bent--excuse me sir--on havin' her own way all the time." Just then a vision flitted past the door.

It was Anita, dressed for dinner, in a filmy gown of pale blue and white, the colors of the Blessed Damozel.

A light came into Colonel Fortescue's eyes as they rested on this darling of his heart.

The Sergeant had a pretty daughter, Anna Maria by name, who was just Anita's age and of whom the Sergeant was extravagantly fond.

The two fathers, the Colonel and the Sergeant, exchanged intelligent glances.