The Colonel could add quite a respectable number of demerits to Broussard's credit.

And to make matters worse, Broussard was a dashing fellow, the best rider in his troop, and had a way with him that made Anita's eyes soften and her tea-rose cheeks brighten when he came within her presence.
Meanwhile, Broussard was walking up the long and handsome drawing-room toward the little glass room at the end, which had been fitted up for Anita's birds, her doves and her canaries.
Anita, leaning backward in the cushioned window seat, held to her breast a fluttering white dove.

She did not see Broussard until he was quite in the little room, and had closed the glass door after him.

As Anita gave Broussard her hand, a great wave of delicate color flooded her face.

This quickened the beating of Broussard's heart--Anita did not blush like that for everybody.