irst and
had hurried thither, and heaven only knows the variety of conjectures
propounded. By the time Ray was seen coming up the row again there were
four ladies on Mrs. Turner's piazza, who were vehemently interested in
his next move. They watched his going to Truscott's; but, of course,
watching was perfectly justifiable in view of their anxiety about her.

"Did you see?" said Mrs. Turner. "He didn't even knock. She was waiting
to let him in."

It was by no means an unfrequent thing for any one of the ladies of the
garrison to receive a visit from some old and tried friend of hers and
her husband's while the latter was in the field. Mrs. Turner never
thought anything of having officers call day or evening, though, as a
rule, there was a sentiment against it, and the majority of the
ladies--especially the elders--thought it wrong for the young matrons to
receive the visits of young officers at any time when the head of the
house was far away. Now that there were only four young officers in
garrison and more than a dozen ladies, the feeling had strengthened to
the extent of considerable talk. It was therefore the unanimous view of
the ladies on Mrs. Turner's piazza that in Mrs. Truscott's receiving two
visits from Mr. Ray in one morning, under circumstances provokingly
mysterious, there was something indecorous, to say the least, and unless
they knew the why and the wherefore, it was their intention to so
declare. "Indeed!" said Mrs. Turner, "I think Mrs. Truscott ought to be
spoken to."

Utterly oblivious of this most proper and virtuous espionage, Ray had
returned to Mrs. Truscott. She looked at him with imploring eyes as they
entered the parlor.

"There is the letter," he said; "do you want it or shall I burn it?"

She shrank back as though recoiling from a loathsome touch.

"Oh, no, no! Burn it! Here is a match," she cried, springing to the
mantel, and then her overcharged heart gave way. She threw herself upon
the sofa, burying her face in her hands, sobbing like a child with
relief and exhaustion. Ray touched the match to the paper; had just
fairly started the flame, when laughing voices and quick footsteps were
heard on the piazza. The door flew open, and all in a burst of sunshine
and balmy air, Marion Sanford, saying, "Oh, come right in. You haven't a
moment to spare, and she'll be so glad to see you!" whisked into the
room followed by Captain Webb.

Tableau!

CHAPTER XVIII.

DESERTION.