The times., 1891-04-10


that could in any way attract more
attention than the wearer; yet John
Fletcher was not sure that he did
not like it better than the blue silk:
at least he felt quite sure that, in a GER
tain sense, she had worn that plain brown
dress for him. And he could not fiatter
himself for a moment that she wore the
blue silk in his honor. But for what
ever reason she had adorned herself, she
looked extremely pretty, and the cap
tnin found himself unwilling to slight
this opportunity to bid good-by to his
hosts young daughter.
Winifred was very pale, but when she
turned and saw him the color came
quickly to her face and deepened as he
greeted her.
81 beg pardon" he stammered ~ did
not expect this pleasure; l had the inn
preston that you had gone away some
days ago."
"No," said Winifred; 81 did not wish
to go. This is my home, and have been
ILL.," she added, hastily, in evident en-
barrassment.
SHIP repeated Fletcher.
sch, not very ILL.," Then seeing that
he was taking note of her dress, she said,
with deepening confusion, 81 am dress
ed to please my father"
Jest and badinage were not possible
between these two; but John Fletcher
could not resist replying, with intent to
be provoking:
81 should never have suspected you Of
dressing to please me; though perhaps
/ might not have thought that it was to
please your father"
She gave him look of cold reproof,
and sat down in an arm chair beside the
marble topped table that stood stiffiy in
the precise center of the room. "The fire
is too warm" she murmured, pressing
her hands against her burning cheeks.
The captain, who did not intend to be
rebuffed, followed her. "May sit down,
too?" he asked.
Winifred did not Immediately reply;
she was looking past him toward the
window she had left "We are going to
dine at Judge Chadwick's," she an
nounced, as though she had not heard
him. 'My father and my aunt are gone
to see Mrs. Leonard Thorne before we
start for town, and l am waiting for
them" She removed her hands from her
flushed cheeks and looked at Capt. Fletch-
Ell, who was still standing on the other
side of the table. "Yes, you may sit
down" she said, not without constraint.
He thought the permission rather
grudgingly given; nevertheless, he sat
down. and looked at her in silence for
some moments, fearing to offend her by
anything that he might say.
Surely" he exclaimed at last, ap-
we might be friends?'
Winifred did not answer, but she gave
him one swift, inexplicable glance, and
turned her eyes away; all the color had
died out of her face.
"The war is over," he said, and hest
tatingly stretched out his hand. Once,
once only, she had clasped hands with
him, and once she had chung to his arm;
if she would but put her hand in his
now.
But Winifred, trembling visibly, would
not see the proffered hand; she even drew
a little away, as if TO rest against her
chair.
"The war is not over" she answered,
in low, constrained voice. "There are
no armies in the field, but
She raised her eyes and looked at John
Fletcher, who had withdrawn his hand.
He expected to hear her utter some
prophecy Of future uprising; he was not
at all prepared for what she had to say.
"Capt. Fletcherr' she exclaimed, trem-
ulously, ''since you have been with us,
who of all our friends have entered this
house? Mrs. Theodore Scott, who is your
friend, and DIR. Lane"
The captains face flushed darkly.
"My father, on Christmas Day, would
not go to church," Winifred continued,
because he would not leave his guest,
and he could not invite that guest into
his pew"
"Could notg repeated the captain,
with smile that exasperated Winifred.
"How would you feel," she exclaimed
with suppressed anger, "were you at
home, to have rebel, as you call us,
sit in the same pew with your
81 could stand it, If the rebel could"
replied Capt. Fletcher, still smiling.
Especially if might choose my rebel"
"The rebel never could stand itr' cried
Winifred, with furious color. "And if
it should prove that my brother has died
of his wounds" she faltered, as the color
ebbed away-"the war will never have
been over for me-"
She covered her face with her hands,
and John Fletcher pushed back his chair,
and rose. sa
"Oh, forgive mel" she cried, with still
averted face. 81 do not mean to forget
-forget"-
Thanks" he answered, coldly. "It is
not worth the effort of your remem-
brance. was glad to serve friend of
my friend-Mrs Lorrimer. You must
believe that most sincerely regret the
chance that has compelled me to be SO
long trespasser upon Col. Thorne's hos
pitality. shall never forget his kind
ness, his uniform courtesy toward an un-
desired guest. Neither shall forget
He paused abruptly, and paused so
long that Winifred, under the spell of