eard at the front door:

"She never left until after daylight, when the same rig drove her back
to town. There was a stranger with her then."

That morning both Rayner and Buxton looked hard at Mr. Hayne when he
came in to the _matinee_; but he was just as calm and quiet as ever,
and, having saluted the commanding officer, took a seat by Captain Gregg
and was soon occupied in conversation with him. Not a word was said by
the officer of the day about the mysterious visitor to the garrison the
previous night. With Captain Rayner, however, he was again in
conversation much of the day, and to him, not to his successor as
officer of the day, did he communicate all the details of the previous
night's adventure and his theories thereanent.

Late that night, having occasion to step to his front door, convinced
that he heard stealthy footsteps on his piazza, Mr. Hayne could see
nobody in the darkness, but found his front gate open. He walked around
his little house; but not a man was visible. His heart was full of a new
and strange excitement that night, and, as before, he threw on his
overcoat and furs and took a rapid walk around the garrison, gazing up
into the starry heavens and drinking in great draughts of the pure,
bracing air. Returning, he came down along the front of officers' row,
and as he approached Rayner's quarters his eyes rested longingly upon
the window he knew to be hers now; but all was darkness. As he rapidly
neared the house, however, he became aware of two bulky figures at the
gate, and, as he walked briskly past, recognized the overcoats as those
of officers. One man was doubtless Rayner, the other he could not tell;
for both, the instant they recognized his step, seemed to avert their
heads. Once home again, he soon sought his room and pillow; but, long
before he could sleep, again and again a sweet vision seemed to come to
him: he _could not_ shut out the thought of Nellie Travers,--of how she
looked and what she said that very afternoon.

He had gone to call at Mrs. Waldron's soon after dark. He was at the
piano, playing for her, when he became conscious that another lady had
entered the room, and, turning, saw Nellie Travers. He rose and bowed to
her, extending his hand as he did so, and knowing that his heart was
thumping and his color rising as he felt the soft, warm touch of her
slender fingers in his grasp. She, too, had flushed,--any one could see
it, though the lamps were not turned high, nor