Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1905-02-13
CHAPTER xxx.
NV Lady of the North.

I walked the next mile thoughtfully, pom
dering over those vague hopes and plans
with which Cations optimism had inspired
me- Then the inevitable reaction came. The
one thing upon which he built so happily
had been denied me-the woman I loved
was the wife of another. might not even
dream of her in my loneliness and poverty;
the remembrance of her could be no incen-
tive to labor and self-denial The lieuten-
ants chance words, kindly as they were
spoken, only opened wider the yawning
social chasm between us. The grea test
mercy would be for us never again to
meet
bent my head to keep the westering sun
from my eyes, and breathing the thick red
dust, trudged steadily forward. Suddenly
there sounded behind me the thud of
hoofs, while | heard a merry peal of
laughter, accompanied by gay exchange of
words. / drew aside, leading my horse
into a small thicket beside the road to per-
NIT the calvalcade to pass. 1t was a group
of perhaps a dOZen-three or four federal
officers the remainder ladies, whose bright
dresses and smiling faces made a most win
some sight. They glanced curiously aside
at me as they gallOped past. But none
paused, and 1 merely glanced at them
with vague interest, my thoughts elsewhere.
Suddenly horse seemed to draw back from
out the center of the fast disappearing
party.
"Ah, but really, you know, we cannot
spare you a mans voice protested.
but you must. No. colonel. this chances
to be a case where / prefer being alone
was the quiet reply. DO not wait please;
l will either rejoin you shortly or ride d.
rectly to the camp
1 had led my limping horse out into the
! road once more to resume my journey
| paying scarcely the slightest attention to
| what was taking place, for my head was
| again throbbing to the hot pulse of the sun
| The party of strangers rode slowly away
| into the enveloping dust cloud, and ! had
| forgotten them, when low, sweet voice
| spoke close beside me: Captain Wayne
| l know you cannot have forgotten me-
She was leaning down from the saddle
! and as glanced eagerly up into her dear
| eyes they were, swimming with tears.
Forgotten! Never for one moment"
| exclaimed; yet Tsfailed to perceive your
| presence until YOU spoke"
"You appeared deeply buried In thought
as we rode by, but could not leave you
| without word when knew you must fee
| so bad. I haye thought of you so often
| you have survived the terrible fighting Of
these last few weeks. But you look sc
| worn and haggard
II am wearied-yes," l admitted. "Bui
| that will pass, away. My meeting again
with you will be a. memory Of good cheer
| and found no little encouragement from a
! conversation just held with Lieut.. Cation
She looked at me frankly, her eyes clear.
ed of the mist. .tWere you indeed think.
Ing hopefully just now? You appeared sc
| grave feared it was despair"
ut was a mixture of both. Mrs. Brennan
| NV own known condition furnishes suff
| cient despair, while Caton's excessive hap
| piness yields a goodly measure Of joy
| which / have not yet entirely lost. Moth.
! Ing gloriAes life, even in its darkest hour
! as the success Of love-"
| ha ola a face
| edly the lieutenant is In the seventh HEAVIER
| at present." she admitted slowly. His
| Celia has led him g. merry chase these many
| months, before she made full surrender
| but that merely makes final victory the
| sweeter."
| "She retains the disposition OF child
"But the heart Of woman Is back Of al
I her playfulness. You are upon your way
/ homer?
II have just been paroled, Mrs. Brennan
After four years OF war am at last free
| and have turned my face toward all tina
1 Is left of my childhood's home-a few weed
| grown acres. scarcely know whether an