been reared in the shadow of the flag, a soldier by birth,
lineage and education. Foster had come in from civil life, after a not
too creditable career at college. He had come, moreover, with the repute
of being a Squire of Dames in "swagger" Eastern society. He danced well,
dressed well, and talked well--when he felt like it. He "knew a lot,"
said men who knew little outside of the army.

He knew enough, at all events, to realize that army society would be far
less tolerant of a "squire" of his kind than had been that of Gotham,
and during his decade of service that, at least, had not been held as
his principal fault. A semi-cynical manner, a propensity for stirring
fellows on their sore points, a pronounced selfishness and an assumed
intimacy with men who disliked him were the things that most conspired
to make him unpopular. He had ability; he could be agreeable, but
indolence and indifference dwarfed his powers. It was not until he came
under the spell of this dark girl's grace and beauty that Stanley Foster
had succeeded in doing anything worthy of mention. Now he was being
mentioned far more than he wished, and, though he heard it not, he knew.

But they went to a dance the night of the day he came, and Dwight gave a
dinner the next night, and another the next. Then there had to be others
given in return, and morn, noon, afternoon and evening, Foster found
himself at the side of Mrs. Dwight. What could she do? He came to stay
only three days, but the week went by, and so, possibly, did his orders.
Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday they were out at morning drill. Then the
pretty phaeton and its lovely occupant and her vigilant convoy came no
more. Inez said she "looked like a fright at that hour of the morning,
anyway," in which statement most women agreed. Possibly it was that that
stayed her.

However, a second Sunday had come since Foster's advent, and the
squadron was having a rest and the chaplain holding service, and Major
Dwight, as was his wont, came, book in one hand and little Jim clinging
fondly to the other, to kneel among the worshipers, to reverently follow
the beautiful service, his boy snuggling to his side and reading aloud
from the same page. It was the service Margaret had loved, and taught
her husband to honor, and had won his promise that Jimmy should ever be
led to it, and loyally, devoted, had the father fulfilled the promise,
even after the young wife came to wean him from much that Margaret