s type. And Anita was more
tender and devoted than ever, keeping up a brave show of loyalty,
although she had already surrendered the citadel.

As the winter at Fort Blizzard was like the frozen regions which the old
Goths believed to be the Inferno, so the summer was like a blast from the
eternal furnace. The hot winds swept over the arid plains and the sun
was more vengeful than the biting cold. The energies of many drooped,
and the sergeants grew short with the men. But cheerfulness prevailed at
the Commandant's house. In July Beverley Fortescue, named for the fine
old Virginia Colonel, Mrs. Fortescue's grandfather, was to come home, in
all the glory of his twenty-one years, wearing for the first time the
splendid cavalry uniform instead of the grey and gold and black of a
military cadet. More than that, he was to be assigned to duty at Fort
Blizzard. When Mrs. Fortescue heard this, she trembled a little; it was
almost too much of joy; this last crowning gift of fate made her almost
afraid. And Beverley was to see, for the first time, the After-Clap, who
was so much like Beverley that the Colonel and Mrs. Fortescue could
hardly persuade themselves he was their last born, and not their first
born.

On the great day, Beverley came. In the soft July evening, at the
threshold, stood Mrs. Fortescue, holding by the hand the After-Clap, a
sturdy little chap for his two-and-a-half years. The mother was smiling
and blushing like a girl. Behind her stood Kettle, his face shining as
if it had been varnished, and next him was Sergeant McGillicuddy, who had
taught Beverley to ride and to shoot and to skate and to box, and all the
manly sports of boyhood. Mrs. McGillicuddy, ruddy and beaming, towered
over the little Sergeant.

Colonel Fortescue and Anita stood on the lowest of the stone steps.
Presently, a motor whirled up and Beverley stepped out, looking so
handsome in his well-fitting civilian clothes, with his new straw hat, in
which he felt slightly queer. The Colonel wrung his hand saying:

"Boy! Boy! How glad we are to have you once more!"

Anita covered Beverley's face with kisses, but Mrs. Fortescue stood like
a queen, smiling and gracious, to receive her boy's reverence. Beverley
caught her in his strong young grasp; she looked so young, so lovely, so
full of radiant life, that she seemed like an older Anita. Then Mrs.
Fortescue raised the After-Clap and put him in Beverley's arms.
Accustomed to muc