Kettle, however, lagged behind to administer consolation to Broussard.
"Doan' you mind, Mr.Broussard," said Kettle, confidentially, "Miss 'Nita, she's jes' cipherin' on you all the time.

She makes the Kun'l tell her all 'bout them songs you done sing him that night in the mountains, an' she and Miss Betty laffed fit ter kill when the Kun'l tell 'em he made you sing like the devil to keep him from groanin' over his ankle." For six mortal days, Broussard sought his chance to be alone with Anita, but that chance eluded him in a maddening manner.

Either the Colonel or the After-Clap was perpetually in his way, and neither Beverley Fortescue nor Kettle, who were his open allies, nor Mrs.
Fortescue, who was secretly on his side, could help him.

Broussard, however, swore a mighty oath that he would have Anita's promise before the new year began.
Late in the afternoon of the last day of the year, Broussard, who kept, from the officers' club, a pretty close watch on the Commanding Officer's house, saw Anita come out in her dark furs and the little black gown and hat in which she looked most charming, and take her way to the chapel.

There was a back entrance, screened from the plaza by a stone wall and a projection of the chapel, and Broussard thought there could not be a better place for the words he meant to speak to Anita.
He seized his cap and ran out, ignoring the jeers of his comrades, who had seen Anita pass and suspected Broussard's errand.