sed her lips one
instant upon the luxuriant hair that fell thickly over the girl's
forehead; then, twining her arm around her head, nestled her own soft
cheek where she had pressed her lips. And there she hovered, saying
nothing more, waiting until the little rain-cloud had passed away.

Presently there came the sound of quick, springy footsteps along the
asphalt from the direction of the barracks. Mrs. Truscott raised her
head.

"It is Sergeant Wolf, Marion. I think he is coming here."

Miss Sanford started up, wiped her eyes and half turned her back, as a
young soldier in the undress uniform of a cavalry sergeant entered the
gateway, and, halting at the foot of the steps, respectfully raised hand
to his cap, and stood there as though addressing an officer.

"Pardon me, madame," he asked, with a distinctly German accent, but with
the intonation of a gentleman on every syllable. "The captain has not
yet returned?"

"Not yet, sergeant; I expect him on the eight-thirty train."

"It is about Corporal Stein, madame; he has overstayed his pass."

"I presume Mr. Waring should be told. Have you seen him?"

"Madame, the lieutenant is neither at his quarters nor the mess."

"Then there is nothing further to be done that I know of," said Mrs.
Truscott, whose girlhood had been passed in garrison at times, and
whose earliest recollections were of papa's dragoons. "I will tell the
captain as soon as he returns." And she stepped backward towards the
chairs.

The sergeant paused one moment. He was tall, lithe, of graceful and
muscular mould; his face was of the singular Saxon cast,--so very fair;
his eyes were blue and clear, his nose and mouth finely shaped; his
teeth were white and even, his hair crisp and curly, and the very color
of bleached straw, but redeemed from that dead, soda-dried effect by the
sheen of every lock; his face was oval; clean-shaved but for the upper
lip, whose long, blond moustache twirled trooper-fashion till the ends
almost swept his ears. He was a handsome fellow, and his manners and
language bespoke him a man of education. After the moment's hesitation,
he again touched his cap and quitted the little garden, walking with
quick, brisk steps and erect carriage away towards the upper end of the
row.

Mrs. Truscott stood silently looking after him a moment, then she
turned:

"Did you notice his hands, Marion?"

"Certainly; I did the first time I saw him, and he is always here. You
say Wolf is