leasure of his company at dinner at six, and asked him to come in and
rest, unless he preferred to go at once and dress. Gleason concluded it
best to go, but, in the hearing and presence of the garrison officers
who were standing near, begged Mrs. Stannard to explain to the ladies
that he had to report to the commanding officer, and would she please
say to Miss Sanford that he would call at five?

What could that mean? was Mrs. Stannard's vexed inquiry of her inner
consciousness. Was the widower bent on making the most of his time in an
endeavor to fascinate the Eastern belle? The ladies were hardly dressed
when he reappeared, and was urging Miss Sanford to come out with him for
a brief stroll to see the mountain prairie and take a whiff of Wyoming
breezes, when the appearance of Mrs. Turner and others (who had just
happened by, but hearing their voices could not resist rushing in to
welcome Mrs. Truscott, etc., etc.) put an end to the possibility. It was
a comfort to note that though perfectly courteous and pleasant in her
manner, even to the extent of that indefinable yet perceptible half
intimacy which exists between travelling companions, Miss Sanford seemed
in no wise encouraging and by no means displeased at the interruption to
the plan so audaciously proposed. At dinner Mr. Gleason sat opposite the
young lady, and was, therefore, obliged to talk much with Mrs. Stannard.
After dinner he promptly established himself by Miss Sanford's side,
showing her albums full of photographs of the officers,--a collection
the major and his wife had been making for years, and one in which they
took great delight. Gleason knew most of them, and it enabled him to be
very entertaining, as he could tell some anecdote or incident connected
with so many, but the early coming of visitors broke in upon his
monopoly, yet could not wholly drive him from her side. It was observed
by every man and woman who came in that evening how assiduous was
Gleason in his attentions. More than that, there was something about
them that can best be described by the word possessive. It seemed as
though he had studied the art of behaving as though he felt that every
look and word was welcome to her. Mrs. Stannard was secretly
exasperated; Mrs. Truscott, who knew nothing of him until their westward
journey, was only vaguely annoyed, but no one could tell from her manner
what Miss Sanford thought.

It was after eleven when the last of the visitors withdrew, a