The Maryville times. (Maryville, Tenn.) 1884-1944, 1899-03-04
will be ample, and / cannot rest now

her remember that she had refused a
chance of talking with him earlier that
night. but refrained. He looked back
across the sallow, moonlit surface OF the
parade to where the oil lamps were
| burning blearily in the guardroom. "He
| is not there" said he. He has gone
down to the corrals. But"-a happy
thought striking him--"in less than ten
minutes he will be coming through here
on his rounds. | gave him the key of
our rear gate. It's warm and pleasant
out here. You might hail and halt him
F.. as he enters"
! Meantime there had been a sore, sore
hearted young wife farther up the row.
| As wrath and passion sobbed them
! selves away and the devil of jealousy
wore itself out, and the thought of
Randy's patience and gentleness and
of all that Mrs. Hayne had said of his
unfiagging tenderness and love. poor
Florence began to wonder if she had not
angered him beyond repair. His last
act had been one of fond. thoughtful
care. He had spread the shawl over her
and fingered over it as though he loved
to touch her, mad, miserable. ugly,
hateful as she had been, and she had
| spitefully thrown it off. She picked it
up now and strove to arrange it as he
had done. but could not. She arose
and bathed her face and eyes, and gazed
out over the now deserted parade. She
had not even stirred when the Rifers
marched away. She paced the floor
again and felt that she was weak, and
became conscious that she was most
automatically hungry. and then-Oh
heavens! how could she!-how could
she have forgotten? Here was Randy
on guard, up all night, and never before
since they came back from their we'd
ding tour had she failed when he was
officer of the guard to have delightful
little chatting dish supper all ready for
him at 10 o'clock. and he used to come
over from his duties for half an hour
and eat with such an appetite and praise
her Welsh rarebit, or her oysters, and
then take her in his arms with such love
and delight in his fond eyes, and here
and here it was one o'clock and she'd
utterly forgotten it. Oh, poor Randy
must be starving!
In ten minutes Mrs. Merriam had
bundled up her dishevelled hair. donned
some more becoming gown than the
tumbled wrapper, and had hustled
downstairs and lighted the parlor lamp
to signal Randy to come home and be
fed and forgiven, and then she ran
sacked the cupboard and started her
fire, and then peeped over toward the
distant guardroom and saw no sign of
his coming. She trotted through the
kitchen and banged Justify at Hop
Ling's door and bade him rise and go
summon his master, but the mental an
swered not. He, too. had slipped away
to the Junction-not so much to see the
Riflers off as to have a shy at fan-tan,
and Florence was alone. Never mind.
She had been born and reared in garri-
son. No one could teach her the ms
and outs of post life. Why shouldn't
she run across the wide, dimly-lighted
fat and sun prise her darling at his desk,
and bid him come home with her and
let her Irvine herself about him, and
have happier cry as she told him how
weak and wicked and cruel and hateful
she had been, and beg to be taken back
| into his love and trust. Yes, yes, well
she knew that he was too noble, too
grand to treat her sternly, coidly, be-
cause OF her tempestuous outbreak. 1t
was all because she loved him so-loved
him so that it was torture to think any
other woman could claim or hold or
even attract him. With Frightening
eyes, with bounding heart, she threw
over her head and shoulders light
wrap and stepped out on the piazza.
Somebody was coming across the pa
rade-from the guardhouse-even now.
He was still too far away to be recog-
nized, but as he halted one minute and
turned as though to listen to the SEN
tries just beginning to call half-past
one, the moonlight glinted on the steel
scabbard, and she knew it must be
Randy. Then he was coming to her
after all. and she need not have to seek
him and be the first to make up" as
she used to %ay in girlish days. The
call went round with echoing ring, and
then on came her loving husband again.
How she loved that martial stride of
his! How erect and strong and sol
dierly he seemed! How-why-he
wasn't coming-straight to her. He had
reached the flagstaff. There lay the
beaten pathway right before his eyes
and hers. He must see the bright lights
of his home bidding him come and find
love and welcome. But he had turned
away-was walking, not toward the
west end, but straight for the middle OF
the row, straight to where the Graftons
lived-where-tbat woman lived.
But that meant nothing. Oh, no!
Florence well knew that meant moth.
ing. Had he not said only little while
before that never would he see or speak
with her without coming first to his
wife, his Florence, and letting he,
know? Yet, why should he go thither
at this hour of the night? That was not
the way to the sentry posts. Uncon
sciously she approached the edge of the
piazza-she saw him reach the road
way--saw him cross it--saw him-mer
| ciful GoIi corld che bol;aya bac arao