niform of a
commissary sergeant giving the name of Foley (how Canker winced) had
ordered it at the stable and taught the driver "Killarney." Gray had
'phoned for a carriage for himself, hoping to get the officer-of-the-day's
permission to be absent two hours to tell his story in person to the
General, who was dining with the department commander. He never got the
permission, and the carriage went to the wrong camp. Lieutenant W. F. Gray
was released from arrest and returned to duty.

"I shall never be able to thank you enough," said he, sentimentally, to
Miss Lawrence, at the Palace that evening. They were strolling up and
down the corridor, waiting, as was Schuyler, for Mildred to come down for
the theater. Gray's curly head was inclined toward the dark locks of his
fair partner. His eyes were fastened on her faintly flushing face. They
made a very pretty picture, said people who looked on knowingly, and so
thought the officer in the uniform of a colonel of infantry, who, while
talking calmly to Mr. Prime full thirty yards away, watched them with
eyes that were full of sadness. How could _he_ see at that distance that
her eyes, clear and radiant, were seldom uplifted to the ardent gaze of
her escort, and were at the moment looking straight at him? How could he
hear at that distance the prompt response, given with an inclination of
the bonny head to indicate her meaning?

"There's where your thanks are due, Mr. Gray."

Quite a gathering of army folk was at the Palace that night. So many
wives or sweethearts were going home, so many soldiers abroad, and Mrs.
Frank Garrison, gay and gracious, passed them time and again, leaning on
the arm of Captain McDonald, a new devotee, while poor Cherry, with an
enamored swain from the Presidio, languished in a dim, secluded corner.
She had been recalled by parental authority and was to start for Denver
under a matronly wing on the morrow. Mrs. Frank had been bidden, and
expected, to go at the same time, but that authority was merely marital.
Up to this time not one army wife had been permitted to accompany her
husband on any of the transports to Manila, though one heroine managed to
get carried away and to share her liege lord's stateroom as far as
Honolulu. The General and his staff, with a big regiment of volunteers,
were to sail on the morrow, the other regiments as fast as transports
could be coaled and made ready.

Something in Mrs. Garrison's gay, triumphant manner prompted