ertaining his guest
at dinner, and Miller wondered how even "Chesterfield" would rally to
the occasion and preserve his suavity and courtliness after the shock
of the last hour. But Miller had no idea that it was the last of three
shocks that had assailed him in quick succession and with increasing
severity that very day, and never dreamed of the gulf of distress in
which poor Bayard was plunged. He had gone at once to his library and
thrown himself in the easy-chair in an attitude of profound dejection,
barely paying attention when Chloe entered to say that Miss Nellie
begged to be excused from coming down to dinner, as she felt too ill.
Then Robert entered to ask should he serve dinner or wait until Mr.
Holmes came in. "Wait!" said Bayard, bluntly. But five minutes passed;
the dinner would be overdone; so Robert slipped out in search of the
truant, and Miller saw him going over to Bedlam. But the upper gallery
was empty; Mr. Holmes and Miss Forrest had disappeared; the adjutant
came striding up from the guard-house, and together the two officers
turned away.

"Orderly," said the major, to the attendant soldier following at his
heels, "find Sergeant Freeman, who is in charge of the cavalry
detachment, and tell him I want him at once. Then go and get your
supper."

Meantime, realizing that the dinner-hour was at hand, and knowing the
punctilious ideas of his host, Mr. Holmes had somewhat abruptly bidden
adieu to the young lady with whom he had been in such interesting
conversation. "I must see you again about Hatton if possible, and just
as soon as I have found out what this means. If all the four were
together at McLean's room the mischief is probably done, but I'll see
him at once unless it be forbidden." He was turning away without more
words, when something in her deep, dark eyes seemed to detain him. He
held forth his hand.

"Miss Forrest, I cannot tell you how I appreciate the honor you have
done me in this confidence. It may be the means of my making more than
one man happy. One word, where is Celestine now?"

"She should be in the dining-room, setting the table for tea. Good-by,
then, till tattoo. See him if you can."

"Indeed I will," he answered, and bowing over the slender,
richly-jewelled hand she so frankly placed in his, he slowly released
it, and turned away.

"In the dining-room, is she?" muttered Holmes to himself, as he ran
lightly through the hall and down the stairs. "If that was not Miss
Ce