ortico they
lingered, chatting on all manner of topics. Mrs. Cranston came smilingly
to congratulate the young officer on his assignment to her husband's
regiment, to say the captain was dozing now and that she thought she
would lie down a while, but that Miss Loomis was not to think of coming
in out of the sweet summer air.

"Oh, Mr. Davies is only waiting for Captain Tibbetts to come up from
camp to call with him on the post commander," said Miss Loomis; "and
here comes the captain now," she continued, as a stalwart, full-bearded,
heavily-built fellow swung himself off his horse at the gate, and,
leaving him with his orderly, came forward with cordial inquiries for
his wounded comrade, and with a packet of letters, at least a dozen,
which he handed to the new lieutenant.

"Seven of them addressed in the same fair, feminine hand, youngster,"
said he, in the easy jocularity of the frontier. "That gives you dead
away."

And the color that mounted to Mr. Davies's forehead, a cloud of
embarrassment, told plainly that the shot was a centre. He had not
recovered himself when the captain again turned, saying they must go to
the commanding officer's quarters at once or be too late.

"Remember, you are to come and lunch with us, Mr. Davies," said the
captain's wife, as he was saying adieu.

"I--I'm afraid I can't, Mrs. Cranston," was his answer. "We march so
soon, and I have so many preparations to make."

"Preparations? Why, what on earth have you been doing ever since you
came up to the post?" asked his witless or too witty tormentor. "He's
simply eager to get off by himself somewhere and devour his ration of
spoon meat. I know how it is, Mrs. Cranston. I was there ten years ago."
And Davies's low-toned protestations were drowned in the jovial tones of
his burly comrade.

"I'll come to say good-by to-night, perhaps," he stammered, as he was
led away, still clutching his packet; but Miss Loomis had turned and
gone within-doors before the visitors reached the gate.

"I'm sorry to hear of it," said Captain Cranston, when later that
evening his wife was laughingly telling of Davies's betrayal and
confusion. "I always feel distressed to find a young fellow, just
entering service, has already enlisted in one much more exacting. I was
in love when I graduated myself."

And Davies didn't come to say adieu. He wrote a note to Mrs. Cranston
saying he found so many duties crowding on him at the last moment, so
many home lett