hildren now presented itself; the question which,
sooner or later, presents itself to the minds of all the parents of army
children. It is settled differently by different people. It had taken a
year for us to decide.

I made up my mind that the first thing to be done was to take the
children East and then decide on schools afterwards. So our plans were
completed and the day of departure fixed upon. Jack was to remain at the
Post.

About an hour before I was to leave I saw the members of the string
orchestra filing across the parade ground, coming directly towards our
quarters. My heart began to beat faster, as I realized that Mrs. Kautz
had planned a serenade for me. I felt it was a great break in my army
life, but I did not know I was leaving the old regiment forever, the
regiment with which I had been associated for so many years. And as I
listened to the beautiful strains of the music I loved so well, my
eyes were wet with tears, and after all the goodbye's were said, to the
officers and their wives, my friends who had shared all our joys and our
sorrows in so many places and under so many conditions, I ran out to
the stable and pressed my cheek against the soft warm noses of our two
saddle horses. I felt that life was over for me, and nothing but work
and care remained. I say I felt all this. It must have been premonition,
for I had no idea that I was leaving the line of the army forever.

The ambulance was at the door, to take us to Valentine, where I bade
Jack good bye, and took the train for the East. His last promise was to
visit us once a year, or whenever he could get a leave of absence.

My husband had now worn the single bar on his shoulder-strap for eleven
years or more; before that, the straps of the second lieutenant had
adorned his broad shoulders for a period quite as long. Twenty-two
years a lieutenant in the regular army, after fighting, in a volunteer
regiment of his own state, through the four years of the Civil War! The
"gallant and meritorious service" for which he had received brevets,
seemed, indeed, to have been forgotten. He had grown grey in Indian
campaigns, and it looked as if the frontier might always be the home of
the senior lieutenant of the old Eighth. Promotion in that regiment had
been at a standstill for years.

Being in Washington for a short time towards mid-winter enjoying the
social side of military life at the Capital, an opportunity came to me
to meet President Cleveland