e distant
connection."

"Ah, doubtless. I recall him only vaguely. He belonged to a much older
set and went very little into general society. A man of the highest
social connections, however, and of much wealth." And the doctor
glanced keenly at her as he propounded this tentative.

"Yes, Mr. Courtlandt is nearly sixty now, and, as you say, doctor, he
goes very little into general society. He prefers his library and his
books and an occasional canter in the park to any other entertainment.
In fact, except his game of whist with some old cronies, that is about
all the entertainment he seeks. His wife, my Aunt Laura, is quite an
invalid."

"And they have no children?"

"Yes, one; a son, who is now abroad. Shall we go up and see Mrs.
Forrest now, doctor? She is looking for a visit from you. Mr. Blunt's
appearance was a great shock to her."

It was growing dusky as they passed through the hall-way. The sun was
well down in the west, and heavy banks of rain-clouds obscured the
heavens. Miss Forrest turned the knob and threw open the door leading
into the unpicturesque yard at the rear of the quarters. "A little
light here will be an improvement," she said. "Why! who can that be?"

As she spoke, a soldier, who had apparently been seated on the back
steps, was striding hurriedly in the direction of the gate. He had
started up just as she opened the door.

"Ah, my man, halt there!" called the doctor; and obediently the soldier
turned and stood attention, raising his hand in salute. He was a dark,
swarthy fellow, with glittering eyes and rather flat features. He wore
the moustache of the trooper, and had permitted his chin whiskers to
grow. The crossed sabres of the cavalry and the letter and number of
the troop and regiment, all brilliantly polished, adorned his
forage-cap, and his undress uniform was scrupulously neat and
well-fitting. The moment he turned, Miss Forrest recognized him.

"Oh, it is Celestine's soldier friend!" she said.

"What are you doing here, my man?" asked the doctor, loftily.

"Nothing, sir," was the reply, both prompt and respectful. "The doctor
probably doesn't remember me. I came in with the wounded to-day at
noon,--Mr. Blunt's striker, sir."

"Well, Mr. Blunt's room is in the other division, and you ought to stay
there."

"I know, sir. I've only been here a moment," was the respectful answer.
"I wanted to ask Celestine to let me have a little ice if she had any,
but there's no one arou