k with Miss
Flower. There was something actually radiant, almost dazzling, about her
face. Her figure, though _petite_, was exquisite, and women marked with
keen appreciation, if not envy, the style and finish of her varied and
various gowns. Six trunks, said Bill Hay's boss teamster, had been
trundled over the range from Rawlins, not to mention a box containing
her little ladyship's beautiful English side-saddle, Melton bridle and
other equine impedimenta. Did Miss Flower like to ride? She adored it,
and Bill Hay had a bay half thoroughbred that could discount the major's
mare 'cross country. All Frayne was out to see her start for her first
ride with Beverly Field, and all Frayne reluctantly agreed that sweet
Essie Dade could never sit a horse over ditch or hurdle with the superb
grace and unconcern displayed by the daring, dashing girl who had so
suddenly become the centre of garrison interest. For the first time in
her life Mrs. Bill Hay knew what it was to hold the undivided attention
of army society, for every woman at Fort Frayne was wild to know all
about the beautiful newcomer, and only one could tell.

Hay, the trader, had prospered in his long years on the frontier, first
as trader among the Sioux, later as sutler, and finally, when Congress
abolished that title, substituting therefore the euphemism, without
material clog upon the perquisites, as post trader at Fort Frayne. No
one knew how much he was worth, for while apparently a most
open-hearted, whole-souled fellow, Hay was reticence itself when his
fortunes or his family were matters of question or comment. He had long
been married, and Mrs. Hay, when at the post, was a social
sphinx,--kind-hearted, charitable, lavish to the soldiers' wives and
children, and devotion itself to the families of the officers when
sickness and trouble came, as come in the old days they too often did.
It was she who took poor Ned Robinson's young widow and infant all the
way to Cheyenne when the Sioux butchered the luckless little hunting
party down by Laramie Peak. It was she who nursed Captain Forrest's wife
and daughter through ten weeks of typhoid, and, with her own means, sent
them to the seashore, while the husband and father was far up on the
Yellowstone, cut off from all communication in the big campaign of '76.
It was she who built the little chapel and decked and dressed it for
Easter and Christmas, despite the fact that she herself had been
baptized in the Roman Ca