nnoyance and aversion. The
entrance of the old chaplain and his wife, and dark, swarthy Leonard
with the handsome partner of his joys and sorrows, gave instant turn to
the conversation. In a very few minutes Mrs. Flight and two younger
matrons took their departure, Almira following them with rustic
regretfulness, and exchanging some whispered confidences at the door,
which brought new flush to Davies's anxious face. Mrs. Leonard was
speaking of a recent visit "up the road," as in those days the Union
Pacific in its westward climb to the Rockies was referred to. She had
had such a lovely visit to Fort Russell, and had so much to tell about
affairs in that particularly swell regiment, the --th, and the Truscotts
had entertained her at such a pretty dinner; Mrs. Truscott was charming,
and Mrs. Stannard was such a noble woman, and they were all so
interested in Mr. Ray's engagement. It was practically announced. He was
to be married to Miss Sanford--an heiress and a great catch--early in
June, and this led to the chaplain speaking of Ray, whom in days gone by
he was prone to look upon with little favor, if not indeed as a
ne'er-do-well. "I always feared that he would fall, and I am so rejoiced
in this new phase to his character."

"Oh, _I_ met Mr. Ray!" exclaimed Almira, delightedly. "He was ordered in
to General Sheridan on some duty late in the summer, and some of the
young officers, Percy's classmates, said he was such a brave fellow."

"What did the old officers say?" asked Leonard, with a twinkle in his
black eyes, but not the vestige of a grin under his heavy moustache.

"They? Oh, I don't remember their saying anything about _him_. They said
lots of lovely things about Percy."

"Yes. That's right. I can understand their omitting no opportunity of
doing that. One learns to be something of a courtier even in Chicago,
when on staff duty, and as for Washington, service there is a liberal
education in diplomacy. One never knows who may have the strongest pull
with the President in the event of a vacancy in the staff corps."

"Leonard," said the chaplain, gravely, "you're a born cynic and a
pessimist to boot. Have we no generous impulses in the army?"

"Lots of 'em. Lots of 'em, chaplain, especially in the line and on the
frontier, where we can afford to pat a fellow on the back, since we know
that's about the extent of the reward he'll ever get. It's when we're
in big society in the East, above all in Washington, one