always_ with me. I used to say to
myself: `Now they are at mess--Now the horses are coming out of the
stables--Now they are turning out for polo!' I could hear the drum, and
the reveille, and the last post. ... As clearly as in the barracks at
home, I heard them!" ...

He stopped short, turning his eyes from the window to look at Cornelia's
face. It was distorted, quivering, with emotion; her hands were clasped
together, and down her cheek rolled two tear-drops, unashamed. He
turned sharply aside, and for some moments neither spoke. Cornelia was
seeing, as in a picture, the lonely ranch, with the solitary figure,
sitting with his face towards the East, thinking, thinking. ... Guest
was reflecting with amaze on the strange antic of fate, which ordained
that it should be in the eyes of this Yankee stranger that he should see
the first woman's tears shed on his behalf! She cried like a child;
simply, involuntarily, without thought of appearance; the tears rising
from a pure well of sympathy. To the end of his life he would bless her
for those tears!

The train slackened and drew up at a country station. A stout, elderly
lady approached the carriage, glanced from one to the other of the two
occupants, and hastily moved on. Cornelia smiled, with the tears wet on
her lashes. Again the wheels began to move, and Guest said shortly--

"Thank you for your sympathy! I had a feeling that you would
understand--that's why I told you. It's not a story that I often tell
to strangers, as you may guess."

"My, yes, I sympathise; I should just think I do. I know what even our
own people suffer sometimes away out West; but I don't _understand_,"
said Cornelia, firmly. "I don't understand--one--little--bit! There's
more to soldiering than riding through the streets, looking fine and
large, and gotten up like a show. I love to see it. We profess to
laugh at forms and ceremonies, but we love them just the same as anybody
else, but it was your _country_ you'd promise to serve! For better or
worse you allowed you were sworn to serve her. You had risked your life
for her; I reckon you had shed your blood. There was just one thing you
wouldn't sacrifice--your own pride! You were thinking of _yourself_
when you sent in that resignation, Captain Guest! You saw yourself
sitting looking out of the window, and seeing the boys riding off to
their sports, and leaving you behind. You cared more for that, than the
thought that