Manchester Democrat. [volume] (Manchester, Iowa) 1875-1930, 1899-12-06


uberant health, spirits, general come
illness of face and form, and exquisite
skill in tennis. But this day a new
and eager longing was eating at his
heart; strange, dull pang seemed to
seize upon it as he noted in flash that
the seat that was to have been his was
occupied by an officer many years his
senior, man he knew only by sight
and an enviable reputation, man
whose soldierly, clean-cut face never
turned an instant, for his eyes were
fixed upon lovely picture on the OPP
posite seat-Amy Lawrence bending
eagerly forward and gazing with her
beautiful eyes alight with sympathy,
interest and frank liking in search of
the sorely disappointed young officer.
"There he isl" she cried, though too far
away for him to hear, and then, with
no more thought of coquetry than
kitten, with no more motive in the |
world than that of conveying to him
an idea of her sorrow, her sympathy,
her perhaps pardonable and exagger-
ated indignation at what she deemed
an act of tyranny on the part of his COM
mander, with only an instant in which
to convey it all-her sweet face flushed
and her eyes famed with the light of
her girlish enthusiasm-in that instant
she had kissed her hand to him, and
then Col. Armstrong, turning sudden
ly and sharply to see who could be the
object of interest so absorbing, caught
one fitting glimpse of Billy Gray lift
ing his cap in quick acknowledgment,
and the words that were on the tip
of Armstrong; tongue the moment be-
fore were withheld for more auspi-
cious occasion-and it did not come too
soon.
1t was only four days after that in.
itial meeting in the generals tent the
foggy evening of the girls first visit
to camp, but both in city and on the
tented field there had been several oc-
casions on which the colonel had been
in conference with Mr.. Prime and in
company with the young ladies.
Junior officers had monopoGzeu the
time and attention of the latter, but
Armstrong was close observer and
man who loved all that was strong,
high-minded and true in his own sex,
and that was pure and sweet and win
some in woman. A keen soldier, he had
spent many years in active service, most
of them in the hardy, eventful and Wig
orous life on the Indian frontier. He
had been conspicuous in more than one
stirring campaign against the red war
riors of the plains, had won his medal
of honor before his first promotion,
and his captaincy by brevet for daring
conduct in action long antedated the
right to wear the double bars of that
grade. He had seen much of the world,
at home and abroad; had Travelled
much, read much, thought much, but
these were things of less concern to
many woman in our much married
army than the question as to whether
he had ever loved much. Certain it was
he had never married, but that didn't
settle it. Many man loves, said they,
without getting married, forgetful of
the other side of the proposition adj
vanced by horrid regimental cynics,
that many men marry without getting
loved. Armstrong would not have
proved an easy man to question on that,
or indeed on any other subject which
he considered personal to himself.
Even in his own regiment in the reg
ular service he had long been looked
upon as an exclusive sort of fellow
a man who had no intimates and not
many companions, yet, officers and sol
diers, he held the respect and esteem
of the entire command, even Of those
whom he kept at distance, and few
are the regiments in which there are
not one or two characters who are not
best seen and studied through binoc-
ular. Without being sympathetic, said
his critics, Armstrong was square"
but his critics had scant means of know
ing whether he was sympathetic or
not. He was steadfast fellow, an I'M
swerving, uncompromising sort of man,
a man who would never have done for a
diplomat, and could never have been
elected to office. But he was truthful,
just, and as the English officer reluct-
antly said of Lucan, whom he hated:
"4es-damn him-he is brave" The
men whom he did not seem to like in the
army and who disliked him according
ly, were compelled to admit, to them
selves at least, that their reasons were
comprised in the above-recorded, re-
grettable, but unmistakable fact-he
didn't like them. Another trait, unpop-
ular, was that he knew when and how
to say no. He smoked too much, per-
haps, and talked too little for those
who would use his words as witnesses
against him. He never gambled, he
rarely drank, he never lent nor Dor
rowed. He was bachelor, yet would
never join "mess," but kept house
himself and usually had some favored
comrade living with him. He was 40
and did not look 35. He was tall, erect,
athletic, hardy and graceful in build,
and his face was one of the best to be
seen in many a line of officers at parade.
His eyes were steel gray and clear and
penetrating, his features clear-cut, al
most too delicately cut, thought some
of the best friends he had among the
men. His hair was brown, sprinkled
literally with silver; his mouth, an adj
mirable mouth in every way, was
shaded and half-hidden by a long,
dropping mustache to which, some men
thought and some women snid, his
tapering white fingers paid too much
attention, but doubt if a knowledge of
this criticism would have led to the
faintest alteration in the habit Cen
orally the expression of Armstrong;
face was grave, and, on duty trife
stern; and not ten people in the world
were aware what humor could twinkle
in the clear, keen eyes, or twitch about
the corners of that mobile mouth.
There were no five who knew the ten
derness that lay in hiding there, for
Armstrong had few living kindred and
they were men. There lived not, as he
drove this glorious August morning to
the breezy uplands beyond the camps,
one woman who could say she had seen
those eyes of Armstrong; melt and
glow with love. AS for Amy Lawrence,
| she was mt of .,,nb =, %1,:a.