ront of
the piazza; "can't wait a fortnight, eh? Wonder what he would say if he
knew I'd been waiting for seven or eight years--if he knew I fell in
love with her as easily as he did, and that I've never recovered myself?
Wonder what he'd do if some one were to marry her almost before his very
eyes, as poor Wittleday did while I was longing for her acquaintance?
Wonder what sort of fool he'd call me if he knew that I came to East
Patten, time after time, just for a chance of looking at her--that I
bought Rose Cottage merely to be near her--that I'd kept it all to
myself, and for a couple of years had felt younger at the thought that I
might, perchance, win her after all? Poor Fred! And yet, why shouldn't
she marry him?--women have done stranger things; and he's a great deal
more attractive-looking than an old campaigner like myself. Well, God
bless 'em both, and have mercy on an old coward!"

The major looked toward the Wittleday mansion. The door was open; the
last guests were evidently departing, and their beautiful entertainer
was standing in the doorway, a flood of light throwing into perfect
relief her graceful and tastefully dressed figure. She said something
laughingly to the departing guests; it seemed exquisite music to the
major. Then the door closed, and the major, with a groan, retired within
his own door, and sorrowfully consumed many cigars.

The week that followed was a very dismal one to the major. He petted his
garden as usual, and whistled softly to himself, as was his constant
habit, but he insanely pinched the buds off the flowering plants, and
his whistling--sometimes plaintive, sometimes hopeless, sometimes
wrathful, sometimes vindictive in expression--was restricted to the
execution of dead-marches alone. He jeopardized his queen so often at
chess that Parson Fisher deemed it only honorable to call the major's
attention to his misplays, and to allow him to correct them.

The saddler post-master noticed that the major--usually a most
accomplished smoker--now consumed a great many matches in relighting
each pipe that he filled. Only once during the week did he chance to
meet Mrs. Wittleday, and then the look which accompanied his bow and
raised hat was so solemn, that his fair neighbor was unusually sober
herself for a few moments, while she wondered whether she could in any
way have given the major offense.

As for the lieutenant, he sat at the major's desk for many sorrowful
hours each day, th