He apostrophized her with a sigh, raising a cloud of incense in the silence his companion did not break.

Captain Elyot did not forget his promise to Miss Laud. The afternoon was fine, and they spent a long hour on the ice. Claudia watched them set out from behind the curtain of her room, where she was hidden, with a beating heart and a twinge of jealousy she could not overcome.

"What if he asks for you when he calls ?"

Miss Laud was determined to steer clear of all dangers after her narrow escape the night before.

"You had better be ready so that he need not wait," Claudia had replied calmly. "Of course if he asks for me I shall see him. But in that case he might feel obliged to invite me to go with you."

"Why, then you would.”

"Then I would not," said Claudia, with some heat. "Unless-unless there should be something very particular in his manner," she added, slowly, upon second thought.

But there was nothing at all particular in his manner when he appeared, unless it was the absence of all interest in Claudia. He did, indeed, ask if she were well, and hoped they should see her on the ice, in a coldly polite tone which struck a chill to the girl's heart, even through the door against which she had placed her ear.

Why did not Kitty reply? Why did she not call her? she thought, with a burst of tears, throwing herself upon the bed. But Miss Laud had no opportunity to reply. He had taken her skates from her hand with a "by your leave," and hastened her away, for all the world, as Miss Laud said to herself, as though he dreaded Claudia to appear.

But Miss Bryce did not spend the afternoon in tears. There was still a shred of hope left to her.

"Be sure that you ask him to come in when you return," she had said to her friend. "You may invite him to tea if you choose."

VOL. XV.-16.

It was only the night before that he had drunk tea with them, but his visits had once been almost daily, and why should they not be again? He had asked to come as he used. She wiped away her tears, arranged her dress, and was behind the shabby little window watching for their return before the afternoon had half passed away. It was almost dark when they appeared, Captain Elyot swinging Miss Laud's skates and his own, and the latter looking up into his face as they came on over the snow in the gray light, in a saucy, bewitching way not pleasant for another woman to see if that other woman chanced to feel a personal interest in the smiles of the young

man.

They stood a moment, these two, at the door, but Miss Bryce had retreated from the window. She did not feel that she could compose her countenance to meet Captain Elyot's eye. She listened to their voices, however, for their conversation was prolonged for some time after they had gained the door. A very gay time Kitty was having, and without a thought of her! Claudia could hardly keep back the tears of vexation while she hearkened every moment for the door to open. It did open after a time,-a long time it seemed to her, but she could distinctly hear the retreating step of the young man. So he was not coming in, after all! And with the pang of disappointment, sharp as the stab of a knife, her friend entered, happy and most inappropriately gay and rosy.

66

Claudia, I wish you had come out; we have had a delightful time."

"So I should judge from the sound of your voice at the door," Claudia replied, stiffly. "I only hope you have not caught cold standing so long outside."

And Miss Bryce bent over the work in her hand as though life were too short for its completion.

"Don't be cross, dear," and Miss Laud laid her rosy face against Claudia's pale cheek. "How could I help enjoying myself? Everybody was out, and asked for you," she added quickly. Miss Bryce moved her face away. "And indeed I did invite him in, but he refused. He had promised to meet some one. It was about some affairs at the mess-room I don't understand, but I heard him make the engagement with Captain Luttrell on the ice. So you see, dear, it was no flimsy pretext to get off. But why were you not at the window? I kept him a moment, thinking you would appear."

Claudia forgot her work for a moment. "To be sure, he did, my dear, having the use of his eyes! He took off his hat as though she had been a duchess. I really can't make him out. But I managed to refer to his visit here last evening, before he left me."

It was coming at last. This was what Claudia had waited for. She worked on steadily, but her face betrayed her, while Miss Laud ran on as she took off her wraps : "I'm afraid you found our game last night rather slow,' said I. Rumor credits you gentlemen with playing so high that a quiet hand at whist with a couple of poor players like Claudia and me must be stupid enough.'

"Rumor is a liar,' he answered, quite savagely (the young man is certainly not devoid of spirit). I can at least deny the story for myself.'

"Then you didn't find it utterly dull ? We were afraid you might,' said I.

"He thanked me, I know, and added something of having spent many pleasant evenings here."

"But did he say he should come again? You must remember, Kitty, if you think a moment."

"I can't say; I really don't know; and yet the impression I received was that he would come."

And with this Claudia was obliged to content herself.

But days passed on and he did not appear, as was said at the beginning of the chapter. A heavy rain set in, flooding the ice and rendering all out-of-door recreation impossible. Even visiting was for a time out of the question, and Miss Laud yawned and sighed over the dreary prospect from the window, and wished herself back in the states again.

Claudia watched and fretted in secret. Why did he not come? Others of the officers dropped in, in spite of the storm. Men for whom she cared nothing braved wind and flood to reach them. He, only, staid away. Sometimes she doubted her friend. Was Kitty deceiving her? She appeared true and ready with sympathy, but to Claudia's sick fancy every face was double.

It was more than a week before the rain ceased and the heaviness hanging over the little company at the fort rolled away with the clouds. If the cold would but strengthen now, the skating would be finer than ever.

Miss Bryce, entering the parlor suddenly one afternoon, discovered her friend consulting the thermometer. At Claudia's appearance, Miss Laud reddened.

"It is growing colder," she said, with evident embarrassment, walking away from the window.

The cold increased throughout the night. By the second day the ice was pronounced safe, and every one prepared to enjoy it after the enforced rest. In default of a more desirable attendant, Claudia had accepted Lieutenant Gibbs as an escort.

"But I cannot think of leaving you alone all the afternoon," she said as she settled her hat in its place. "I'll only go out for half an hour. I thought Captain Welles asked you last night. Why didn't you accept? So fond of skating as you are, too, I could not understand your refusal.”

Miss Laud's back was turned to her friend. She did not reply at once.

“I refused him,” she said presently, without turning her head, "because-I am expecting Captain Elyot to come for me, Claudia."

"What do you mean? When did you see him to make such an appointment ?" Claudia's voice was sharp, and near to breaking. But now Miss Laud faced her friend.

"Not since we went skating together more than a week ago. You may believe me, Claudia, I have never seen him since. But he engaged to take me out again the first fine day. You remember it looked like a storm that night."

"And you knew it all the time and kept it back! I would never have thought it of you, Kitty. I would never have believed you to be so sly."

She saw clearly now that she must gather her strength and fight as best she could singlehanded. What were red eyes in such an emergency!

When Captain Elyot called for Miss Laud (a duty he had nearly forgotten), he found her equipped and awaiting him. He had been entrapped into asking her again,—if one can be said to be caught who walks open-eyed into the snare. Her brusque, odd ways amused him; her saucy speech could not wound. It could sting, indeed; but, as a boy, he had learned to grasp a nettle boldly. She still persisted in bringing up Blossom's name; but forewarned now, he made brief reply, or none at all, to her suggestions and innuendoes.

The river was crowded with skaters. Even Mrs. Bryce had been tempted to try her clumsy skill, and Lieutenant Orme was happy in having Blossom under his care. Mrs. Stubbs had been cajoled into an unwilling consent at last.

"I don't know why you should call me sly," Miss Laud said, with some spirit. "I would have told you that night but I knew you would be angry. You were vexed as it was because I didn't bring him in. I asked him; what could I do more? And it's little enough attention I have received from your friends. You need hardly begrudge me this, Claudia. I may as well confess that it isn't at all as I supposed it would be, or what you led me to expect from your letters. And my new dresses not so much as taken out of my trunks! I might

But there came a resounding rap at the door, and Jinny's head was thrust into the room, putting an end to Miss Laud's words, as well as checking Claudia's tears. Lieutenant Gibbs was in the parlor.

"You will never go out. Your eyes are frightfully red," said Miss Laud in a more composed tone.

The walls were thin; what might he not have overheard.

But Claudia disdained reply. She bathed her eyes and smoothed her hair, ruffled by the pillows where she had taken refuge, re-adjusted her hat and went. At last she began to feel something of a roused spirit. She had no one to depend upon but herself.

"A charming day, certainly;" she replied to Captain Elyot's polite greeting, uttering the words with a smile.

They were almost like the smile and the words she had bestowed upon him months before, perhaps not exactly the same, but at least equal to a photograph of the original. The amount of will and energy which the weakest woman will develop to hide her heart is beyond wonder and praise. Do not call it deceit. It is a natural growth, like porcupine quills, and intended for the same purpose of defense. Captain Elyot, who had remembered uncomfortably the manner in which he had parted from Miss Bryce that night at her door, and had determined to avoid her since, was set at ease at last. His vanity had deceived him, he thought to himself; the whole unpleasant evening had been but an echo of his spirit, which was out of tune. Claudia's old charming manner had returned, and he wished Gibbs success with all his heart. I am afraid he was a good deal befogged at this time, and hardly knew headlands from clouds. But the four formed a small circle for a moment, and nothing could be more amiable or even affectionate than the manner of the two young ladies. He little imagined that they had mentally vowed

never to speak to each other again less than sixty minutes before, and that he had been the occasion of the quarrel.

He devoted himself to Miss Laud, as in politeness bound, but his eyes would sometimes follow a slight figure in a fur-lined jacket shooting past, with Lieutenant Orme's long legs beside it. Other parties were dashing by with alarming velocity. Each time, Blossom and her companion seemed to increase their speed. It was reckless and unsafe; the careless boy was not to be trusted with such a charge, he thought, replying absently to his companion, and tempted to interfere at the risk of angering the lieutenant. While he hesitated, the calamity he had foreseen took place. There was an exclamation like a cry. The crowd pressed forward to one spot.

"Stand back! Stand back!" shouted an authoritative voice. "Don't you see that the ice is cracking under your weight!"

It was the major, who had just come. The circle widened suddenly and broke. As it parted, Elyot saw a little motionless form, a dark heap, about which the others had gathered. There had been a collision between the mad racers, and Blossom had gone down. Before any one could raise her, he had dashed into the circle, lifted her in his arms, and was skating toward the shore, ignoring Lieutenant Orme, who, upon his knees beside her, was tugging wildly at the straps of his skates. The boy followed him as speedily as possible, as did most of the company, for she lay like one dead in the young man's arms. The afternoon's sport was at an end.

"Will you oblige me by apologizing to Miss Laud and taking her home," Captain Elyot said, coldly, to the young lieutenant, who came up as the former was having his skates removed.

The poor lieutenant, terrified and repentant, went off without a word to do his bidding, while Captain Elyot carried Blossom home to her mother. Any one of the women who had regarded her so superciliously a moment before, would have gladly done something for the poor little thing now. Some one offered to run on and prepare Mrs. Stubbs. But the dash over the ice had begun to revive her already, and by the time she was laid upon the fine sofa in her own parlor, Blossom had opened her eyes. Half the company who had witnessed this accident had crowded into the room or hung about the open door.

"What is it?" Blossom cried, in an

excited tone, waking to find all these strange faces about her.

"Nothing at all, child. Don't you be fretted," said her mother, with a strange quaver in her voice.

"You fell on the ice. They came to see if you were hurt," Captain Elyot explained. "That was kind," said the child, with a sweet, faint smile.

Forgiving her enemies with the words, though quite unconscious that she had any, and too weak to try to understand why the tears came to the eyes of the chaplain's wife, or why the showy young lady who had pressed forward to Captain Elyot's side, should turn away her head.

"Let me stay with you, Mrs. Stubbs," said Mrs. Brown, the chaplain's wife. "I can sit by her if you are called away."

"Thank you, ma'am, but I reckon I can do all that is necessary," Mrs. Stubbs replied in a hard tone.

The grace of forgiveness was not hers, and she remembered that this woman had slighted Blossom. They stole away one after another. The major, even, had pressed into the room to see how it fared with the child, though neither Mrs. Bryce nor Claudia had followed. "You'll be quite well in the morning," he said kindly, patting her brown curls. "I am quite well now," Blossom replied. "I think I could sit up."

But Mrs. Stubbs gathered her in her strong arms and bore her off to her bed.

CHAPTER XIII.

"THO' FATHER AN' MITHER AN' A' SHOULD GAE MAD."

EARLY in the evening Lieutenant Orme crept around to the store. He looked with longing eyes toward the parlor door, but it was not to open for him.

"How is Miss Blossom ?" he ventured to ask of Mrs. Stubbs, who stood like a grim image of justice behind the scales.

Thank God! she was not dead, or even desperately ill, or her mother would not be here.

"Blossom?" repeated Mrs. Stubbs, in an unpleasant voice. "She's but poorly, sir." And she poured out the coffee she had been weighing.

Mrs. Stubbs, tying up the package and giving it into the hands of the purchaser, paid no further attention to him.

"Is there nothing more? Thank you," as she handed back the change, for the sutler's wife was ceremoniously polite within the bounds of her business affairs.

"Could I do anything?" asked the lieutenant in an awed voice, pressing into notice again.

What if she were to die, after all!

'Nothing that I think of now," Mrs. Stubbs replied coldly, moving off and intrenching herself behind a great ledger which gave her the appearance of having stepped around a corner, and effectually ended the conference.

The boy stole away, heavy-hearted and full of forebodings. If she were to die! He sat down upon the steps outside for a moment. He was too miserable to go back to his quarters. Even Captain Elyot had blamed him, he felt it, though they had not met since they parted on the ice. And did Blossom also reproach him? Or-and he grew sick at heart over the vision his fancy called up-did she lie still and white with no thought of him at all-too ill for recollection? He could not bear the suspense or the weight of his fears. He would seek Captain Elyot and beg of him to go and face Mrs. Stubbs, and learn the truth, even if by so doing he received the full measure of his friend's anger for his carelessness.

A half an hour later, Captain Elyot strolled into the store.

"And how is Miss Blossom now ?" he inquired cheerfully. "None the worse for her fall, I hope."

"You may just step in an' see for your self, Cap'n Elyot. She's a bit weak an' trembly yet; but you'll find her in the parlor. She would be brought out; she declared she could walk; but 'Not a foot do you put to the floor this night,' said I. The surgeon says there are no bones broke, but he's a fool at the best, as every one knows. Ah, well, I deserve a broken back myself for being talked into trusting her to that rattle-headed

"Don't be hard on Orme. The boy is frightened enough at what has happened. He'll be more careful another time; and, really, it was not entirely his fault. I saw it all, and

"Them can risk their lives as choose; but it'll be neither me nor mine," said Mrs. Stubbs in a tone beyond gainsaying.

She shut up her book, with the air of having the lieutenant's head between the covers, and descended from her high seat.

"But you may go on, Cap'n Elyot; I'll follow you presently."

And she proceeded to make everything tidy and fast for the night, while the captain, after a tap and a pause at the parlor door, passed on into the room where he was to find Blossom. A pale, soft light shone through it from a great lamp on the table beside the sofa, and just rising from the sofa, in some kind of a loose, white gown, was Blossom. Was it the pale yellow light or the gown that made her so white ?

"Don't let me disturb you; I am sure you had better lie down," Captain Elyot said, tossing his hat upon the floor, and drawing a chair close to her side. "I have come from Lieutenant Orme, which must excuse a rather late call. The poor fellow dared not come himself. I left him tearing his hair over his carelessness."

"Oh, he need not do that," Blossom said quickly; "it was my own fault, and, indeed, there is no harm done. I shall be up tomorrow."

"He heard a most alarming account of you at the store."

"I suppose he didn't see mother." And Captain Elyot could not contradict her. There fell a moment's silence between the two, with the hush that comes at night-fall—a hush of the spirit as well as of all confused and laborious sounds that fill the working-hours.

Blossom lay back in one corner of the flowered sofa, her cheek against its arm, one hand, with its pink-tipped fingers, just showing below the loose sleeve of her gown as it lay on her knee. How frail and sweet to look at she was this night! It came to him like a revelation that life would hold nothing beautiful or dear to him if those eyes, languidly open now, should close forever, what it would have been to him if they had never opened again. He bent, with a sudden impulse, and kissed her hand.

"You gave me an awful fright," he said, in a hoarse voice, and with the beating of his heart sounding in his ears.

There was a hand on the door. It opened, and Mrs. Stubbs appeared. Captain Elyot had risen to his feet. His color was heightened, but he stood erect and unabashed.

"Are you going, Cap'n Elyot ?" Mrs. Stubbs asked, suspecting nothing.