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'It was Truscott's way, they said: 'after all, he comes of a clever family, and we hope his son will be better. A man wants character to carry off a thing like that." I agreed that character must have been Mr. Truscott's secret. "Now I couldn't do that for the life of me," Mr. Rogers sighed, and chuckled over another reminiscence. "Josh had a shindy once with a groom.
"Who are you?" he asked, at length, "and what on earth are you doing out here this time of night?" "Kennedy, sir. Captain Truscott's troop, at Fort Beecher. I got in with despatches an hour ago " "What!" cried Field. "Despatches! What did you do " "Gave 'em to the major, sir. Beg pardon; they was lookin' for the adjutant, sir, an' Sergeant Hogan said he wasn't home."
You'll find cold beef, bread, cheese, pickles, milk, if you care for it, and pie right there in the pantry. Take the lamp in with you and help yourself. If you want another nip, there's the decanter. You've made splendid time. Did you meet no Indians?" "Not one, sir, but I saw smokes at sunset out toward Eagle Butte." "Your name I see you belong to Captain Truscott's troop."
"But as to Truscott's going, what do you think, Ray?" "I don't think anything about it. I know." "What is so rare as a day in June?" sings the poet, and where can a day in June be more beautiful than at this Highland Gate of the peerless Hudson? It is June of the Centennial year, and all the land is ablaze with patriotic fervor.
If unlimited conceit has not yet been mentioned or indicated as one of Mr. Gleason's prominent traits, the omission is indeed important. He felt that up to the time of Truscott's coming his progress had been satisfactory. Officers and ladies were already making sly allusions in his presence as to his prospects for a second entanglement, and were heard with complacent undenial.
I had been watching your face for several minutes, and thinking how few, how very few women are blessed as you are." Mrs. Truscott's eyes filled with tears, and her hand sought and clasped that of her friend. A most unusual caress for her. "Sometimes I fear I'm growing very selfish in it all, Marion, and I blame myself more than I can tell you when these spells come over me.
The slender white hand that rests upon the volume of Carlyle in her lap looks less fragile than it did that day at old Camp Sandy when, in Tanner's library searching for the children's books among the shelves, it showed itself to Truscott's eyes without a certain ring. Mrs. Jack does not fancy Carlyle.
Truscott threw herself into a chair, then rose as hastily and went into the dining-room beyond. Miss Sanford's eyes followed her anxiously as she stood at the sideboard pouring out a glass of water. "That man er Wolf, who came with this batch of recruits, tells me he was first sergeant of Captain Truscott's troop at the Point," he said, tentatively. "Yes. When did he get here, or how?"
At daybreak on the sixth, Truscott's squadron, of over a hundred horse finely mounted, equipped, and disciplined, was marching rapidly over the ridge to Lodge Pole, leaving Russell wives and children behind; leaving to care for them, among others, Gleason and Sergeant Wolf. Wearily the day of their departure rolled away. Mrs. Truscott never left her room. Mrs.
And then, that next afternoon, that very next afternoon, after she had written all her impulsive, wifelike, loving promises to Jack, what should come but a note from Ray to be delivered privately to her. Let any young wife of less than a year's disenchantment put herself in Mrs. Truscott's place and say what she would have done.
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