s useless. He said that if he could not enlist here he
would go back to New York and enter for service on the frontier, so,
finally, it was settled. He was made a corporal in a few weeks, and now
he is first sergeant. He is invaluable in that respect; still, I do wish
there were no mystery. I hate mysteries. He is never seen with the men
at all, and when not on duty he is always reading. Jack lends him books
that no other soldier cares to look at and that they do not have in the
troop library. That is what brings him here so often. He comes every day
or two with a book he has read and wants another; but his name isn't
Wolf. Somewhere, he has a seal ring with a crest on it, and last
month--there had been some trouble among the men, and two hard
characters had laid in wait for the sergeant one dark night near the
stables and assaulted him, but he was too quick and powerful for them,
though they escaped--last month he brought Jack a sealed packet which he
asked him to keep, and if anything happened to him it was to be returned
to an address he gave in Dresden. It's really quite a romance, but I
wish----" And Mrs. Truscott broke off abruptly without saying what she
_did_ wish.

Miss Sanford was silent. She had recovered her self-control, and the
traces of recent tears were vanishing. Once more Mrs. Truscott seated
herself by her side.

"You will stay with us, won't you?" she said, with that uninterrogative
accent on the "won't" which is indicative of a conviction on part of the
questioner that denial is impossible.

"Yes, Grace, gladly, if Captain Truscott can win papa over to it. I
shall be far happier here, and he will at least have peace at home. She
will be satisfied and content if I am not there. How can I thank you
enough, Gracie? I had almost made up my mind to ask Mrs. Zabriskie to
take me back to Europe with her. You know she returns on the 'Werra' in
July."

"Indeed you shall not. I had counted on having you for bridesmaid, and
you would not come home. That was the only disappointment in my wedding;
but, after all, since Mr. Ray couldn't come, there would have been a
groomsman short if you _had_ been there."

"Why didn't he come? You never told me."

"Why? Poor Mr. Ray! He wrote one of his laughing letters to Jack to say
that he'd be switched if he was going to play hangman at his own
execution. You never knew such a queer fellow as he is. The real reason
was that he could not afford to come East from Kansa