es knew
to have occurred at Spottsylvania. His name was Langston, and his first
visit to the post was the result of a letter of introduction to Captain
Cranston from a classmate in the East. Cranston had driven over to
Braska to seek him out on receipt of the letter enclosing Langston's
card, bade him hearty welcome to the West, and was surprised to hear
that his practice brought him frequently to the neighborhood. He asked
him out to dinner two weeks later, Captain and Mrs. Hay, Mrs. Davies,
and Mr. Hastings being invited to meet him, for almost his first
question had been for that soldierly young officer, the hero of the riot
on the train. Mrs. Davies pleaded previous engagement, but Captain and
Mrs. Cranston took the trouble to call and explain that this Mr.
Langston especially admired and asked for her husband, Mr. Davies, and
so Almira simply had to go. Hastings called for and escorted her. He was
a blunt fellow, who held that when the husband was away and the lady of
the house alone, no other man ought to set foot within the threshold,
and he waited on the porch. But the lady was not alone. Willett's sleigh
was in the trader's stable, and Willett himself biting his nails and
swearing in Almira's parlor while Mrs. Darling was putting the finishing
touches to Almira's toilet. Willett had driven out _solus_ this time,
thinking to persuade Mrs. Davies to take a drive, with some other dames
playing propriety on the back seat, and, finding she was engaged for
dinner and could not go, lost a chance of scoring a point by asking the
other women anyhow, for by this time his infatuation had utterly
overcome his senses. Katty again appeared and begged the lieutenant to
step in wid Mr. Willett, and Hastings turned fiery red, scowled
malevolently, said "No," and took himself outside the gate, pacing up
and down like the orderly in front of Devers's quarters, a short
pistol-shot away, until Almira came fluttering out, Willett in close
attendance, Mrs. Darling mercifully following. Hastings bade the others
a gruff good-evening, silently tendered Mrs. Davies his arm, and led her
away with the sole remark "Aren't we late?" which gave her a chance to
talk the rest of the way.

And though Langston sat on Mrs. Cranston's right, with the pretty bride
on his other side, so that he might descant about the absent Percy to
his heart's content, his eyes ever wandered across the simple table and
dwelt on Agatha Loomis's noble face. She had r