uch drilling. "That is, it is great to me. I change
station."

"How is that?" asked Clara eagerly. She was not troubled at the thought of
losing a beau; we must not be so hard upon her as to make that
supposition; but here was a trustworthy friend going away just when she
wanted counsel and perhaps aid.

"I have been promoted first lieutenant of Company I, Fifth Regiment, and I
must join my company."

"Promoted! I am glad," said Clara.

"You ought to be pleased," put in Aunt Maria, staring at the grave face of
the young man with no approving expression. "I thought men were always
pleased with such things."

"So I am," returned Thurstane. "Of course I am pleased with the step. But
I must leave Santa Fe. And I have found Santa Fe very pleasant."

There was so much meaning obvious in these last words that Clara's face
colored like a sunset.

"I thought soldiers never indulged in such feelings," continued the
unmollified Aunt Maria.

"Soldiers are but men," observed Thurstane, flushing through his sunburn.

"And men are weak creatures."

Thurstane grew still redder. This old lady (old in his young eyes) was
always at him about his manship, as if it were a crime and disgrace. He
wanted to give her one, but out of respect for Clara he did not, and
merely moved uneasily in his seat, as men are apt to do when they are set
down hard.

"How soon must you go? Where?" demanded Clara.

"As soon as I can close my accounts here and turn over my stores to my
successor. Company I is at Fort Yuma on the Colorado. It is the first post
in California."

"California!" And Clara could not help brightening up in cheeks and eyes
with fine tints and flashes. "Why, I am going to California."

"We will see," said Aunt Maria, still holding the fates in her fist.

Then came the story of Grandfather Munoz's letter, with a hint or two
concerning the decay of the Van Diemen fortune, for Clara was not worldly
wise enough to hide her poverty.

Thurstane's face turned as red with pleasure as if it had been dipped in
the sun. If this young lady was going to California, he might perhaps be
her knight-errant across the desert, guard her from privations and
hardships, and crown himself with her smiles. If she was poor, he
might--well, he would not speculate upon that; it was too dizzying.

We must say a word as to his history in order to show why he was so shy
and sensitive. He had been through West Point, confined himself while
there cl