garments on the pegs behind the door
and had rested with curiosity upon a "lassie" bonnet and cloak.
Henrietta did not wait for the question on my lips.

"Them's my adjutant's uniform," she said, with a touch of pride. "You
didn't know I used to be an adjutant in the Salvation Army, did you?"

I shook my head.

"Well, I was, all right. Adjutant Faith Manners, that's what I was," and
rising, she limped across the floor, and burrowing in the depths of the
trunk, returned in a moment with an envelop which she handed me with the
command to read its contents. The envelop, postmarked "Pittsburg, Pa.,"
was addressed to Adjutant Faith Manners.

"But how does it come you have two names?" I inquired.

"Well," the girl replied slowly, "I thought as how it sounded better for
a professing Christian to have some name like that, than Henrietta.
Henrietta is kind of fancy-sounding, specially when you was an adjutant
officer and was supposed to have give yourself to Jesus."

I read the letter; it was a curious epistle, written in a beautiful,
flowing hand, well worded, and complimenting Adjutant Manners upon her
"persistence in the good work for Jesus," and winding up with the offer
of a small post, at a salary to be determined later on, in the Pittsburg
barracks of the Salvation Army. The name of the writer, which for
obvious reasons it is best not to divulge, was that of an officer who, I
have since discovered, is well and favorably known in Pittsburg. The
whole thing was a bewildering paradox. There was no doubt of its being a
bona-fide letter, nor of Adjutant Faith Manners and my room-mate being
one and the same person. And yet, how explain the ludicrous
inconsistency of such an experience in the life of such a girl?

I had opened my mouth to ask some question to this end, when we started
as a heavy step resounded in the hallway outside. Then the latch
rattled, the door swung open, and a thick-set, burly, bearded man stood
upon the threshold. I screamed before I noticed that Henrietta regarded
the new-comer quite as a matter of course.

The man stood in the doorway, evidently surprised for the moment at
seeing me there; then, closing the door behind him, he advanced
awkwardly, tiptoeing across the floor, and sat down upon the edge of the
bed without so much as a word.

"Will you have a cup of coffee, brother Mason?" asked Henrietta,
shaking the pot to determine whether its contents would warrant the
invitation.

"I don'