Marion's Faith.

by Charles King

  CHAPTER VIII.

  AT RUSSELL.

  "What do you think!" exclaimed Mrs. Turner, breathlessly, as she rushedin upon her friend Mrs. Stannard one bright morning a week later, "Mrs.Truscott and Miss Sanford will both be here to-morrow. Mr. Gleasonescorts them. Why!" she added, in visible disappointment, "you knew allabout it all the time. Why didn't you tell me?"

  "I only knew yesterday, Mrs. Turner," was the smiling reply. "They willstay with me until their quarters are ready. Captain Truscott andCaptain Webb will camp here with their troops until further orders, andyou knew, of course, that they were on their way. The ladies were tohave gone to the hotel in town, but Major Stannard sent word before heleft that Mrs. Truscott must come to me, and I have plenty of room forMiss Sanford, too."

  "Won't it be delightful to have them? It will add ever so much to thelife of the post," said Mrs. Turner, with visions of hops and partiesinnumerable flitting through her pretty head. It was a week since the--th had broken camp and marched away. Already they were far across thePlatte and up out of reach of all telegraphic communication somewhereamong the breaks of the South Cheyenne, and right in among the bands nowknown to be hurrying day and night, northwestward, to join the hordesof Sitting Bull. Captain Turner had been unusually grave in parting withhis wife, but that blissfully constituted matron had shed few tears. Shewas philosophic and sensible beyond question. What good was there inborrowing trouble? Didn't the captain have to go time and again just thesame way in Arizona, and didn't he always come back safely? Of course,poor Captain Tanner and Captain Squires, and Mr. Clay and Mr. Waltersand others, had been killed, and lots of them were wounded at one timeor another; but heavens! if one had to go into deep mourning every timea husband had to take the field, there would be no living in the cavalryat all! Mrs. Turner was unquestionably sensible, and far be it from ourintention to upbraid her. Ladies there were in the --th who spentseveral days in prayers and tears after they had seen the last of theguidons as they fluttered away over the "divide" towards Lodge Pole, andwith these afflicted ones Mrs. Whaling, the "commanding officer's lady,"would fain have lavished hours of time in sympathizing converse. Sheloved the melodramatic, and was never so happy, said Blake, as whenbathed in tears. Detractors of this estimable woman, indeed, were wontto complain that she was too easily content with these pearly butinsufficient aids to lavatory process; and her propensity for adheringfor weeks at a time to an ancient black silk, which had seen service allover the Western frontier, gave sombre color to the statement. The fewladies of the --th who had come to Russell for the summer were hardlysettled in their new quarters when the regiment was hurried away, andfrom one house to another had Mrs. Whaling flitted, a substantial andseemingly well-fed matron in appearance, and one whose eccentricities ofcostume and toilet were attributable, no doubt, to a largeness ofnature, which rendered all care for personal appearance subordinate tothe claims of afflicted humanity. All the ladies had gracefully acceptedher proffered sympathy, and some had warmly thanked her for thewell-meant attentions; but Mrs. Turner was completely nonplussed by thegood lady's offer to come and pray with her, and it must be allowed thatMrs. Whaling's visit of condolence had been productive of far morecomfort to Mrs. Turner than was expected,--and in a far different way;for that volatile young matron rushed in upon Mrs. Stannard late in theafternoon, choking with laughter, to describe her sensations in strivingto be proper and decorous until the venerable black silk had whiskeditself off out of hearing. Three days after the --th had gone the bandarrived from Hays. Mr. Billings had spent two days at the post in seeinghis men comfortably established and in turning over property to theinfantry officer designated to be post adjutant, and then he had takenstage to Laramie and gone in chase. That evening, after the band hadplayed delightfully an hour or two on the parade, the officers suggestedan informal dance; their own ladies went readily, and Mrs. Turnerdecided to go and see the hop-room, and once there it seemed so poky tocome away without a waltz or two. "The floor was lovely, so much betterthan ours at Hays, and really, several of the garrison officers dancedremarkably well." So we infer Mrs. Turner had satisfied herself bypersonal experiment on that score. Very properly, the informal hopsbecame regular features of the garrison life, and several ladies of the--th, "grass-widowed" for the summer, were speedily induced to join inthese modulated gayeties. What with the band, the influx of some half adozen new ladies, and the constant arrival of officers _en route_ to thefront, the garrison not unnaturally remarked that Russell was jolliernow that the --th had gone than it was before.

  And now Mrs. Truscott and the very interesting Miss Sanford were coming.This was indeed news! They were to take quarters next to the Stannards,and be Mrs. Stannard's guests until the furniture arrived and all wasmade ready for them. Truscott's troop, with Webb's, was coming along byrail fast as they could travel in the heavy freight-trains to which theywere assigned, and the ladies, Mrs. Webb included, were being escortedon the express direct to Cheyenne by Lieutenant Gleason, who had joinedthe party as they passed through Kansas City, and who had, doubtless,made himself especially agreeable to the young and lovely Mrs. Truscott,of whom he had heard so much, and to her friend, the heiress from NewJersey. These were details of which Mrs. Turner was in ignorance whenshe came in to surprise Mrs. Stannard with the news, and, after herfirst astonishment, Mrs. Turner's sensations were not those of unmixeddelight. A whole day, it seemed, had the major's wife been in possessionof the tidings and had not imparted them to her. This was indicative ofone of two things: either Mrs. Stannard was so reticent that she did notcare to tell anybody, or else she had told others and kept it fromher,--from her who believed that she had made a most favorableimpression on this charming and popular lady of whom all men and mostwomen spoke so admiringly. Mrs. Turner's face betrayed her mentalperturbation, and Mrs. Stannard was quick to divine the cause. Ingenuine kindness of heart she came promptly to the relief of her prettyfriend. Without being in the least blind to her frivolities, Mrs.Stannard saw much that was attractive and pleasant in Mrs. Turner. Shewas vastly entertained by her, and enjoyed studying her as she would agraceful statue or a finished picture. Beneath the surface she had nodesire to penetrate. Warm friends and loving friends she had in troops,and women of Mrs. Turner's mental calibre were sources of infinite,though quiet, entertainment. She enjoyed their presence, was cordial,kindly, even laughingly familiar, yet always guarded. Mrs. Stannard'smost pronounced characteristic was consummate discretion. She knew whomto trust, and others might labor in vain to extract from her thefaintest hint that, repeated carelessly or maliciously, would wound orinjure a friend.

  But here was a thing all the world might know. Truscott's telegram hadreached her the evening before, saying that the three ladies, escortedby Lieutenant Gleason, would arrive at such a time, and that Mrs.Truscott and Miss Sanford would gladly accept her offer. The averagewoman could hardly restrain herself from going out and seeking some oneto whom to tell the interesting news. Few pleasures in life are keenerthan the bliss of being able to convey unexpected tidings,--when theyare welcome,--but Mrs. Stannard knew that the ladies of the regimentwith whom she felt at all intimate were over at the hop-room. She hadall a woman's eagerness to tell the news, but--she was loyal to the--th, and would not even in so little a thing let others be the bearers.That Mrs. Stannard was a woman capable of deeds of heroism we deducefrom the simple fact that she went to bed that night without havingbreathed the story to a soul. She had a strong impulse to tell her cookand housemaid,--old and reliable followers of her fortunes,--but shewell knew that those amiable domestics would be clattering up and downthe back yards all the evening, and the news would surprise nobody whenshe came to tell it next day. She was too true a woman to want to partwith such a pleasure. Then she had--ah! must it be confessed?--a littlemischievous desire of her own to see how Mrs. Turner would take it, forthose who knew Mrs. Turner best were given to the belief that she wouldfar rather have the attention of the masculine element of the garrisonconcentrated upon herself than
shared with such undoubted rivals asthese would be; and so, with perfect truth, Mrs. Stannard's reassurancetook the form of these words:

  "You see I could not make up my mind to let any one know until I hadtold you, and I've been expecting you all the morning,"--and Mrs. Turnerwas charmed. "But," said Mrs. Stannard, "tell me how you heard it. Ithought no one knew it but myself."

  "Oh! Mr. Gleason telegraphed as a matter of course, to announce that_he_ was escorting these ladies. It was quite a feather in his cap to beable to show the commanding officer here that Captain Truscott intruststo him the duty of guarding anything so precious. When you get to knowMr. Gleason better you'll appreciate that," said Mrs. Turner, with apout. "Captain Turner can't bear him, and dislikes to have me notice himat all; and what I wonder at is his escorting them. Why is he not withhis company? And where is Mr. Ray? If the board has adjourned, I shouldsuppose that Mr. Gleason would be on duty with his men,--he isTruscott's first lieutenant, you know,--and that Mr. Ray would berushing through to catch _his_ company. Why isn't he escorting them Iwonder? Perhaps Captain Truscott had reasons of his own for notpermitting that,--Ray _was_ smitten with her, I don't care what Mrs.Raymond says. Have you heard where Mr. Ray is?"

  "Not a word. I wish I knew," said Mrs. Stannard, wistfully.

  "Have you--have you heard anything about his being in any trouble, inanything likely to keep him from going with the regiment?" asked Mrs.Turner, hesitatingly, yet watching closely Mrs. Stannard's face.

  "Nothing in the least that is anything more than a very improbablestory, and one that I have too little faith in to repeat. Tell me whatnews you have from the captain." And Mrs. Turner knew 'twas useless toask questions. She hurried through her visit, and tripped eagerly awayup the row to carry the news throughout the garrison, meeting Mrs.Whaling coming down, and the latter had the start.

  And so, before the setting of a second sun, Grace Truscott was once morein garrison, and Miss Sanford, with quietly observant eyes, was formingher first impressions of army life in the far West, and welcoming withsweet and gracious manner the ladies, who could not resist theirhospitable impulse to gather on Mrs. Stannard's piazza and greet thenew-comers as soon as they had removed the dust and cinders of railwaytravel, and in the bewildering freshness of their New York costumesreappeared on the parlor floor.

  That evening, of course, they held quite a levee. The band playeddelightfully upon the parade, welcoming back to the frontier thecolonel's daughter, and wishing, many of them, that old Catnip, too, hadcome, for he was very thoughtful and kind to his men, and they wererealizing that it is no fun to be musicians for somebody else'sregiment. Many officers and ladies called, and Mrs. Stannard's pleasantparlor was filled from early until late. One man appeared there beforeanybody else, accepted an invitation to join them at dinner and stayeduntil after eleven: this was Mr. Gleason.

  The sunshine of Mrs. Stannard's bonny face was something the --th wereprone to speak of very often, perhaps too often to suit other ladies,whose visages on the domestic side were not infrequently clouded. Justas it is an unsafe thing to speak in presence of some mothers of thegrace or beauty or behavior of other children than their own, so it issimply idiotic to talk of Mrs. So-and-so's sweet manners or sweeter faceto Mrs. Vinaigre, who is said, at times, to be snappish. It may be farfrom your intention to institute comparisons or to refer, by inference,to graces which are lacking in the lady to whom you speak, but there isnothing surer in life than that you get the credit of it in the fullestsense, and that, most unwittingly, you have affronted a woman in a waythe meekest Christian of her sex will find it hard to forgive; she willnever forget it. Mrs. Stannard's smile was sweetness itself; her eyessmiled quite as much as her mouth, and her very soul seemed to beamthrough the winsome, winning beauty of her face. All the young officerslooked up to her with something akin to worship; all the elders spoke ofMrs. Stannard as the perfection of an army wife; even her closestfriends and acquaintances could find no one trait to speak of openly asa fault. The nearest approach to such a thing was Mrs. Turner'sexasperated and petulant outbreak when her patient lord had ventured, inpresence of several of her coterie, to speak once too often of thatlovely smile. "Merciful powers! Captain Turner. Any woman with Mrs.Stannard's teeth could afford to smile from morning till night; but it'sall teeth!" But even Mrs. Turner knew better. It was a smile born ofgenuine goodness, of charity, of loving-kindness, and of a spiritualgrace that made Mrs. Stannard marked among her associates. In all theregiment no woman was so looked up to and loved as she.

  Grace Truscott had known her well by reputation, though this was theirfirst meeting. It seemed not a little strange to Miss Sanford that theyshould be going thus suddenly and unceremoniously to be the guests of alady whom neither of them had ever seen, but "'tis the way we have inthe Army," was the laughing response when she ventured to speak of it,and any hesitancy or embarrassment she might have felt vanished at theinstant when their hostess appeared on the piazza and both her handswere outstretched in welcome. "Did you ever see a lovelier expression ina woman's face?" was her first impulsive exclamation when she and Gracewere shown to their rooms. Yet, once her guests were up-stairs and outof the way, Mrs. Stannard's brow clouded not a little as she descendedto the piazza, where she had left Mr. Gleason superintending theunloading of trunks, boxes, and other baggage, and giving directionsabout the distribution of this thing or that quite as though "one of thefamily." She had never liked him; the major cordially hated him; sheknew that Captain Truscott could not possibly feel any friendship forsuch a man, and yet here he was, the escort of Mrs. Truscott and MissSanford on their journey. They were her guests, and therefore she had tobe unusually civil to him. One or two officers came up to speak to himas he stood at the little gate, and the post adjutant invited him tosend his traps to his quarters, where a room was ready. Gleason lookedaround at Mrs. Stannard and remarked, "Well, I'm much obliged, but yousee I'm rather bound as yet to our ladies," and plainly intimated thathe hoped Mrs. Stannard would offer him the spare room on the parlorfloor, but Mrs. Stannard did nothing of the kind; and, not verygracefully, he availed himself of the young infantryman's courtesy. Thebaggage was all in by this time, and there was no need of his prolonginghis stay. Mrs. Stannard, of course, announced that they expected thepleasure of his company at dinner at six, and asked him to come in andrest, unless he preferred to go at once and dress. Gleason concluded itbest to go, but, in the hearing and presence of the garrison officerswho were standing near, begged Mrs. Stannard to explain to the ladiesthat he had to report to the commanding officer, and would she pleasesay to Miss Sanford that he would call at five?

  What could that mean? was Mrs. Stannard's vexed inquiry of her innerconsciousness. Was the widower bent on making the most of his time in anendeavor to fascinate the Eastern belle? The ladies were hardly dressedwhen he reappeared, and was urging Miss Sanford to come out with him fora brief stroll to see the mountain prairie and take a whiff of Wyomingbreezes, when the appearance of Mrs. Turner and others (who had justhappened by, but hearing their voices could not resist rushing in towelcome Mrs. Truscott, etc., etc.) put an end to the possibility. It wasa comfort to note that though perfectly courteous and pleasant in hermanner, even to the extent of that indefinable yet perceptible halfintimacy which exists between travelling companions, Miss Sanford seemedin no wise encouraging and by no means displeased at the interruption tothe plan so audaciously proposed. At dinner Mr. Gleason sat opposite theyoung lady, and was, therefore, obliged to talk much with Mrs. Stannard.After dinner he promptly established himself by Miss Sanford's side,showing her albums full of photographs of the officers,--a collectionthe major and his wife had been making for years, and one in which theytook great delight. Gleason knew most of them, and it enabled him to bevery entertaining, as he could tell some anecdote or incident connectedwith so many, but the early coming of visitors broke in upon hismonopoly, yet could not wholly drive him from her side. It was observedby every man and woman who came in that evening how assiduous wasGlea
son in his attentions. More than that, there was something aboutthem that can best be described by the word possessive. It seemed asthough he had studied the art of behaving as though he felt that everylook and word was welcome to her. Mrs. Stannard was secretlyexasperated; Mrs. Truscott, who knew nothing of him until their westwardjourney, was only vaguely annoyed, but no one could tell from her mannerwhat Miss Sanford thought.

  It was after eleven when the last of the visitors withdrew, and still helingered. Once more Miss Sanford stood by the centre-table and bent overone of the albums. She turned rapidly over the pages until she reached acabinet picture of a dark-eyed, dark-haired, trim-built young officer incavalry undress uniform.

  "You did not tell me who this was, Mr. Gleason."

  "That? Oh! That is Mr. Ray of our regiment," was the reply, in a tonelack-lustre of all interest.

  "Mr. Ray? Where? Let me see," exclaimed Mrs. Truscott, coming quickly tothem. "Oh, _isn't_ that perfect? When did you get it, Mrs. Stannard? Howmean of him not to send us one!"

  "It was taken in Denver this spring," said Mrs. Stannard. "The majorsays it's the only picture he has ever seen of Mr. Ray, and it is asgood as one can be that doesn't represent him in the saddle. You know wethink him the best rider in the --th,--we ladies, that is," she added,knowing this to be one of Gleason's weak points. Mr. Gleason made noremark.

  "What became of the other members of the board, Mr. Gleason?" shecontinued. "I expected to see Captain Buxton and Mr. Ray."

  "Oh, they gave us all ten days' delay in joining so as to say good-byto friends, you know. Buxton stopped to see his wife's family atLeavenworth, but he'll be through here in a day or two." Then came apause.

  "And where is Mr. Ray? I supposed that he would be off like a shot."

  There was an unmistakable sneer on Mr. Gleason's face, though the replywas vague and hesitating.

  "Yes, Ray made no end of fuss about getting off--until the orders came;since then I haven't heard much--that is, I haven't seen anything ofhim."

  "He couldn't well get to the regiment without going through here, couldhe?"

  "No; but he hasn't gone, and he won't be going in any great hurry."

  It was evident to Mrs. Stannard that Gleason was striving to bequestioned. Whatever he knew he was ready to tell, provided some onewould ask. Mrs. Truscott and Miss Sanford stood silently by, stilllooking at the photograph, when Mrs. Stannard again spoke.

  "Well, Mr. Ray was never behind in any previous campaign, and I'llventure to predict he isn't far behind now. Now, Mr. Gleason, I'm goingto send you home, for these ladies are tired out with their longjourney."

  He would fain have put in another word about Ray, but she was vigilantand checked him. He hoped for an invitation to breakfast, but it did notcome. He plead with languishing eyes for a few moments more at the sideof the lady he desired to fascinate, but Miss Sanford was still lookingat the photographs and would not return his glance. Go he had to, and itwas plain to him that in striving to belittle Ray he had damaged his owncause. It made him bitterer still as he strode through the darknessdown to the beacon-lights of the store. Gleason drank more and talkedmore before he went to bed than was good for him; but no seed is soeasily sown as that of slander.