olous
as Fred, and quite as great a tease.

And then October comes, and Fred has gone, and the colonel and his
household are back at Sibley, where the garrison is enraptured at seeing
them, and where the women precipitate themselves upon them in tumultuous
welcome. If Alice cannot quite make up her mind to return the kisses,
and shrinks slightly from the rapturous embrace of some of the younger
and more impulsive of the sisterhood,--if Mrs. Maynard is a trifle more
distant and stately than was the case before they went away,--the
garrison does not resent it. The ladies don't wonder they feel indignant
at the way people behaved and talked; and each lady is sure that the
behavior and the talk were all somebody else's; not by any possible
chance could it be laid at the door of the speaker. And Alice is the
reigning belle beyond dispute, though there is only subdued gayety at
the fort, for the memory of their losses at the Spirit Wolf is still
fresh in the minds of the regiment. But no man alludes to the events of
the black August night, no woman is permitted to address either Mrs.
Maynard or her daughter on the subject. There are some who seek to be
confidential and who cautiously feel their way for an opening, but the
mental sparring is vain: there is an indefinable something that tells
the intruder, "Thus far, and no farther." Mrs. Maynard is courteous,
cordial, and hospitable, Alice sweet and gracious and sympathetic, even,
but confidential never.

And then Captain Armitage, late in the month, comes home on crutches,
and his men give him a welcome that makes the rafters ring, and he
rejoices in it and thanks them from his heart; but there is a welcome
his eyes plead for that would mean to him far more than any other. How
wistfully he studies her face! How unmistakable is the love and worship
in every tone! How quickly the garrison sees it all, and how mad the
garrison is to see whether or not 'tis welcome to her! But Alice Renwick
is no maiden to be lightly won. The very thought that the garrison had
so easily given her over to Jerrold is enough to mantle her cheek with
indignant protest. She accepts his attentions, as she does those of the
younger officers, with consummate grace. She shows no preference, will
grant no favors. She makes fair distribution of her dances at the hops
at the fort and the parties in town. There are young civilians who begin
to be devoted in society and to come out to the fort on every possib