letters that had just come to him from the fellows at
the front (the same mail had brought Mrs. Truscott that letter from Jack
which sent her to her room in misery), and towards evening Mrs. Stannard
came down to see him awhile, and hear his letters and tell him of her
own. Mr. Gleason passed out of his quarters girt with sabre,--he was
officer of the day,--and walked over towards the guard-house across the
parade. Blake had gone "up the row." He wanted to give them a chance for
a quiet talk, for Ray's heart was full of gratitude to the major's noble
wife. She had nursed him like a mother in his delirium and illness; she
had nursed him as she had other fellows when they were down, and they
none of them forgot it. As Blake passed Number 11 and glanced back
towards the rear windows, he saw a sight that, to use the words he often
affected, "gave him pause."

Standing cap in hand at the back of the house was the soldier Hogan, a
flush of mingled delight and surprise on his face, and his mouth
expanded in a grin of embarrassed ecstasy. In front of him was Miss
Sanford, daintily dressed as usual, holding out her hand. She caught
sight of Blake, pressed something into Hogan's hand and sprang quickly
back.

_Can_ she be sending Ray a note? was his first thought. He concluded not
to go in just then, but went on his way. That night Hogan was unusually
conversational around the house. He was plainly exhilarated. He came to
the room where the two officers were seated and stumbled over Mr.
Blake's boots.

"What on earth do you want, Hogan?" asked Ray, looking up from his paper
and pipe.

"I was wanting to clane the lootenant's pistol, sir, an' it isn't in the
holster."

"You needn't clean it to-night," said Ray, coloring. "I want it."

"What the dickens do you want it for to-night?" said Blake. "Let him
have it; it hasn't been cleaned for a month."

"Never mind, Hogan, not to-night."

"Could I be gone for a couple of hours, sir, if there's nothing else the
lootenant wants?"

"Oh, yes, go ahead; I shall not need you until morning."

"Would the lootenant take care of this for me?" said Hogan, holding out
two twenty-dollar bills. "I might lose it if I tuk too much."

"Don't take too much, then, you sinner. Where did you get this money,
sir?"

"Shure the lootenant mustn't blow on me," said Hogan, with rapture in
his eyes and a glibness born of poteen on his tongue, "but that
court-martial was the makin' of me fortune, s