oked out of the window, and exclaimed:

"It's her darkey--he's got an answer--oh, major!"

"Steady, boy, steady!" said the major, arising hastily and laying his
hand on the young man's shoulder, as that excited person was hastening
to the door. "'Officer and gentleman,' you know. Let Sam open the door."

The bell rang, the door was opened, a word or two passed between the two
servants, and Mrs. Wittleday's coachman appeared in the dining-room,
holding the letter. The lieutenant eagerly reached for it, but the sable
carrier grinned politely, said:

"It's for de major, sar--wuz told to give it right into his han's, and
nobody else," fulfilled his instructions, and departed with many bows
and smiles, while the two soldiers dropped into their respective chairs.

"Hurry up, major--do, please," whispered the lieutenant. But the veteran
seemed an interminably long time in opening the dainty envelope in his
hand. Official communications he opened with a dexterity suggesting
sleight-of-hand, but now he took a penknife from his pocket, opened its
smallest, brightest blade, and carefully cut Mrs. Wittleday's envelope.
As he opened the letter his lower jaw fell, and his eyes opened wide. He
read the letter through, and re-read it, his countenance indicating
considerable satisfaction, which presently was lost in an expression of
puzzled wonder.

"Fred," said he to the miserable lieutenant, who started to his feet as
a prisoner expecting a severe sentence might do, "what in creation did
you write Mrs. Wittleday?"

"Just what you gave me to write," replied the young man, evidently
astonished.

"Let me see my draft of it," said the major.

The lieutenant opened a drawer in the major's desk, took out a sheet of
paper, looked at it, and cried:

"I sent her your draft! _This_ is my letter!"

"And she imagined _I_ wrote it, and has accepted _me_!" gasped the
major.

The wretched Frederick turned pale, and tottered toward a chair. The
major went over to him and spoke to him sympathizingly, but despite his
genial sorrow for the poor boy, the major's heart was so full that he
did not dare to show his face for a moment; so he stood behind the
lieutenant, and looked across his own shoulder out of the window.

"Oh, major," exclaimed Fred, "isn't it possible that you're mistaken?"

"Here's her letter, my boy," said the major; "judge for yourself."

The young man took the letter in a mechanical sort of way, and read as
follows: