The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1895-04-21

mourned SO Loyalty. One and all they
rejoiced in saying everything that sol
der speech could frame in praise Of their
new lieutenant. their boy officer, their
coloneFs soldierly son, even while strug-
Cling against the impulse that ever pos
scssed them to refer to him as Masther
Will, or. as he hated still more to be
called, Masther Willie. Little by little
army punctillio had prevailed and most
of the men had learned to refer to him
respectfully as the lieutenant" and to
brace up and salute him with all the
gravity and precision lavished on Fem
ton or Leale. Even the Irish trumpeter.
with whom he had ridden races and
played hockey, and gotten. into all man.
ner of mischief about the post in by
gone days-McGuirk, at first could not
suppress the affab1e grin that overspread
his freckled mug at sight of his Will
ON playmate as a full-fedged officer,
bearing the Presidents commission But
Mac was savagely roasted by Sergeant
Stein and other elders. and did his best
to amend. 1t was Terry Rorke that was
incorrigible. Time and again he broke
the rules he laid down for himself, and,
as Terry had been the household "strik
Il err" in the days when it was Captain
Farrar, and they first lived at Frayne,
he found especial favor in the gentle
eyes of the widowed mother, and was
encouraged to come and see her, for in
all that crowded garrison he alone could
re call her f1rst-bOrn, her handsome, ddrl-
ing, dashing Royle, when he was a boy
of fourteen. To all the world he was an
outcast, but the mother heart had never
yet been able to quench the flame of love
| that, burning like beacon in her pure
and prayerfu1 heart, seemed ever beck
oning to him to return. Yes. Terry
| Rorke had never forgotten "Masther
| Royle,' and he alone could come and
| talk with her of the son, when all the
| rest of the world would only too gladly
| believe him dead and forgotten.
Thrice had Will. bursting into the
| hallway, as was his custom, without
| knock or ring, come suddenly upon his
! mother in conference with his old friend
! and hers. and Rorke had sprung to at
| tention and stood like statue and had
striven to say. the lieutenant and not
| "Masther WILL in his reference to his
| officer, but Will plainly showed he
| thought this frequent coming an imposi-
ton. Mother, dear" said he one day,
IF old Rorke is annoying you by COM
| ing SO often / can give him a gentle
| hint
Annoying? Why, Willie, dear, love
| to talk with him. He was the most
! faithful. devoted creature we ever knew
| All through your boyhood he watched
/ over you, and he was almost the only
| friend your poor brother seemed to
| have"
II appreciate all that, mother said
| Will, tugging uneasily at his budding
| mustache, at least l try to, but, all the
| same, you know it isn't the thing. Of
| course, Rorke never presumes exactly
| l understand that. and he only comes
| because you bid him, and then it is
usually to the back door, and all that,
| but still it's the effect of the thing on
| the other men. and it's time he was
| learning to understand I'm decidedly no
| longer Master WILL
| All, there was the rub. Two days be-
| fore, in presence of Wills fair little lady
| love, had one of Rorke's lapses occurred,
| and the lieutenant had been Masther
| Willed and had Redeemed to the roots of
| his hair, seeing which Kitty Ormsby, as
determined a tease as ever lived had
| taken to calling him "Masther WIFI on
| her own account, and thunderstorms
| were imminent. There were other fell
] lows, presentable fellows, in the garri-
| son who were quick to feel the fascina-
| ton of this charming little niece of Fen
| toms, and just the moment Will showed
! disposition to Sulk she Showered smiles
/ and sunshine on the first subaltern to
| appear, and thereby drove Will nearly
| rabid. Had his comrades ventured to
| dub him "Masther WIFI there would
| have been row. Had any of the other
| bellies of the garrison tranSgreSsed he
| would have turned his back upon her
| then and there, and so elegant dancer
| and reputedly wealthy young officer
was not to be offended, even though he
| was believed to be in love before Kitty
/ came and known to be the instant she
| appeared. But Kit could and did tor
| ment him without mercy, and without
/ fear of consequences, and, before she
| had been at Frayne a week, was MAX
| ing life burden for the fellow who had
| prayed for her coming as it's sweetest
| blessing.
| And so, like the big outside world, the
| little community of Fort Frayne was
| living it's life of hopes and fears, smiles
| and tears, love and jealousy and hate,
| while Kitty had speedily made herself
| completely at home, and was tyranniz-
| ing over everybody at the colone1s. as
| we'll over Will, and tormenting Aunt
| Lucretia by making eyes at Major
| Wayne, who never saw them, while
| Wayne had got to drifting over to his
| new coloneIs almost every evening, just
| as twenty years before he infested the
| quarters of his old friend at Fort Leav-
| enworth, arouSing once more all the f1ut-
| tering of that maidenly heart, and, while
| Mrs. Farrar, rejoicing in the evidences
| of love and reverence in which her huS-
| bands name was held every side,
| and in the honorS Will was winning in
| his chosen profession, and even while
| she found comfort in the fact that one
faithful old friend could recall her way
ward boy as he was before dishonor and
/ disgrace had swamDed him. she would
| have been less than a woman had she
| been insensible of Fenton's depressed
but unvarying devotion. Never intrud-
ing, rarely calling, he was gentleness,
| tenderness persOnif1ed in every look and
| word. 1t was evident that all these
| years had never served to Danish her.
image from his heart. Mourner though
! she may be, can woman live and not
| rejoice in knowing herself the object of
| SO much love on every side? Widower
| though even by few brief months, does
| she resent it that the man lives who
| would be glad to teach her to forget?
Life was not without romance. then,
| even to one who had lost her best be-
| loved not three years gone by, and for
| whose first born she still shed bitter
| tears.
| And to another sorrowing heart, to-
| another gentle and stricken soul this
! wintry soiourn on the far frontier was
| bringing strange emotion. Day after
| day had Malcolm Leale been visitor
1 at the Farrars. Time after time had he
| found himself seated in conversation
/ with the woman whose beauty of face
| had thrilled him the day of her COM
| ing, and whose sweet, subdued, but
gracious manner had charmed him more
| and more First to notice his marked
preference for Helen Daunton's society
| was Ellis Farrar, who noted it with
| mixed emotions, with an interest of
| which she felt ashamed, and which she
| strove to repress. For months she had
ctr rol;r OF hor I,o,.