t--there was a heart-breaking "but". Each army woman,
each visiting girl from Omallaha knew that at any minute her star might
be eclipsed, put out, as the stars at dawn are extinguished by the
rising sun. Each one knew, too, that the sun must be at the brink of the
horizon, because it was half-past eleven, and it took more than twenty
minutes to motor to Ellsworth from Omallaha. Besides, Max Doran, who
used to love the "Merry Widow" waltz, was not dancing. He stood near the
door pretending to talk to an old man who had chaperoned a daughter from
town to the ball; but in reality he was lying in wait, ready to pounce.

It was a wonder that he hadn't gone to meet her; but perhaps she had
refused his escort. A more effective entrance might be made by a
dazzling vision alone (the "stage aunt" did not count) than with a man,
even the show young man of the garrison.

The show young man talked jerkily about the weather, with his eyes on
the door. They were laughing eyes of a brilliant blue, and accounted for
a good deal where girls were concerned; but not all. There were other
things--other advantages he had, which made it seem quite remarkable
that a rather dull Western fort like Ellsworth should possess him. His
family was high up in the "Four Hundred" in New York. He had as much
money as, with all his boyish extravagances and wild generosity, he knew
what to do with. He was exceedingly good to look at, in the dark, thin,
curiously Latin style to which he seemed to have no right. He was a
rather popular hero in the --th, for his polo, a sport which he had
introduced and made possible at Fort Ellsworth, and for his boxing, his
fencing, and his marksmanship. He had been graduated fourth in his
class at West Point three years before, so that he might have chosen the
engineers or artillery; but the cavalry was what he preferred; and here
he was at old Fort Ellsworth, enjoying life hugely and so well helping
others to enjoy life that every one liked him, no one was jealous or
grudged him what he had.

There he stood, this "show young man," well-groomed and smart in his
full-dress uniform of second lieutenant of cavalry, the stripes and
splashes of yellow suiting his dark skin: a slim, erect figure, not very
tall, but a soldier every inch of him, though the wide-apart blue eyes
gave the square-chinned face a boyish air of wistfulness, even when he
smiled his delightfully childlike, charming smile. Girls glanced at him
as they swu