n she
distrusted? how express distrust when her maidenly promptings told her
it was an indelicate solicitation? She could say Brindle had gone dry
and the blind mare had foaled, or that crops were good; but what was
that to say when her heart was thirsting and drying up? She blotted
the paper and her eyes and her hands, but she could not write a line.
She was a sensible girl, and gave it up, leaving her love to grow its
own growth. The tree had been planted in good ground, and watered: it
must grow of itself.

By and by military operations brought her lover into the old
neighborhood. I cannot say he put on no affectations with his new
rank, that he did not air his shoulder-straps a taste too much; but
the manly nature was too loyal to sin from mere vanity. He seemed
natural, easy, pleased with her, and urged a speedy wedding.

We may guess how the Lassie--we must give her a name, and that will
do--worshiped her King Cophetua in shoulder-straps. Had he not stooped
from his well-won, honorable height, the serene azure of his blue
uniform, to sue for her? In all the humility of her pure loving heart
she poured out her thankfulness to the Giver of all good for this
supreme blessing of his love.

In the midst of this peace and content her brother appeared with a
flag of truce. He was hailed as a prosperous prodigal, for he too
was a lad of metal, but he brought one with him that made poor Lassie
start and tremble. It was a lady, young and beautiful, clad in deep
mourning. Although sad and retiring, there was that dangerous charm
about her which men are lured by, and which women dread--a subtle
influence of look and gesture and tone that sets the pulses mad. She
was going for the remains of her husband, and told a pathetic story,
but only too well. She used always the same language, cried at the
same places, and seemed altogether too perfect in her part for it
to be entirely natural. So, at least, Lassie thought, even while
reproaching herself for being hard on a sister in affliction. Yet she
could not escape the bitterness of the thought that the widow, Mrs.
G----, was "a real lady"--that ideal rival she had been so long
dreading in her lover's absence; and now that he had come, the rival
had also come.

Her brother dropped a hint or two about the lady: Mrs. G---- had the
"shads," "vodles" of bank-stock and niggers, and she paid well for
small service. If King Cophetua could get leave to escort her to
head-quarters, Mr