you mean?' I
said, and my cheeks burned. Then he smiled. 'You needn't
worry,' he said, banging the table with his fist. 'I'll keep
Captain Curtis where he is if every politician in the State
petitions for his removal.' I liked his wooden cuss-word, and I
thanked him and jumped up and hurried home to write this
letter. The Secretary told Osborne that the bill for buying out
the settlers would certainly go through next winter, and that
your plans were approved by the whole department. So, you see,
you are master of the situation, and can plan as grandly as you
wish--the entire reservation is yours.

"It is still hot here, and now that my 'lobbying' is done, I am
going to the sea-shore, where papa is, and I know I shall wish
you were with me to enjoy it. I am so sorry for you and Jennie,
my heart aches for you. Think of it! The cool, beautiful ocean
will be singing me to sleep to-night. I wish I could send you
some fruit and some ices; I know you are longing for them.

"I wonder how it will all turn out? Will you be East this
winter? Perhaps I'll help you celebrate the opening of your new
gardens, next spring. Wouldn't you like me to come out and
break a bottle of wine over the first plough or water-gate or
something? If you do, maybe I'll come. If you write, address me
at the Brunswick, Crescent Beach. I wish you could come and see
me here--you look so handsome in your uniform."

The soldier's answer was not a letter, it was a packet! He began by
writing sorrowfully:

"DEAREST GIRL,--I fear I shall not be able to get away this
winter. There is so much here that requires my care. If the
bill passes, the people will be stirred up; if it doesn't pass,
the settlers will be uneasy, and I shall be most imperatively
necessary here. Nothing would be sweeter to me than a visit to
you at the beach. As a boy I knew the sea-shore intimately, and
to wall the sands with you would be to revive those sweet,
careless boy memories and unite them with the deepest emotions
of my life--my love for you, dear one. It almost makes me
willing to resign. In a sense it would be worth it. I _would_
resign only I know I am not losing the delight forever--I am
only postponing it a year.

"I have thought pretty deeply on my problem, dearest, and I've
come to this