Betty at Fort Blizzard

his last cigar at one o'clock in the morning, felt a little ashamed of himself. After all, Anita was little more than a child, being but seventeen, and it

self. Broussard had a good many plausible excuses to urge for himself, and was always a good barker for Victor Broussard, and Anita was so charming, she had so much more sense than the average seventeen-year-old fledgling, she was so obviously more developed mentally and emotionally for her age, she ha

that took place at Fort Blizzard. Before every ball, Colonel Fortescue's aide, Conway, a serious young lieutenant, delivered the Colonel's orders that there was to be no tangoing or turkey-trotting or chicken-reeling or "Here Comes My Daddy" business in that ball-room. Moreover, Neroda, the bandmaster, had orders if any of these dances, abhorred of the Colonel's heart, were started the music was to stop immediately. Colonel Fortescue himself, by way of setting an example, would do

and enjoyed it extremely, in spite of his deprecation of

k at the fort, and as a special compliment Broussard was invited, the only bachelor officer except th

admiration by his charm of manner, his sly impudence, his way of singing love songs; and her eyes followed him, while she turned away from him. But she knew exactly what Broussard had said to her while they stood on the tanbark and she blushed to herself at the answer that came involuntarily to her lips. She knew no more of actual love-making than the After-Clap, but she was an inveterate reader of poetry and romance, and had no

bent, and were closer to primeval men and women than they knew. So it was at Fort Blizzard, standing grimly watchful over the world of snow and ice and holding within its limits all the struggle and striving and love, and laughter and dancing, and the weeping and working and resting, and the hazards a

boy, Ronald, appeared. The officers, and their wives, too, had a kind word for the little fellow, so handsome and well-mannered, and especially was he a favorite with Broussard. It was, indeed, more than friendly favor toward the child; Broussard was conscious of a strong affection for the boy, about whom there was something mysteriously appealing to Broussard, an expression in the frank young eyes, a soft beauty in the boy's smile, that reminded Broussard of something loved and lost, but he knew not what it was nor whence it came. Anita, although knowing nothing of the gentleman-ranker and his wife and the handsome boy except that, obviously, they were unlike their neighbors and fell

talks to him as if she was the Colonel's lady-that she does, the minx! And she pretending to be so meek and mild and not looking at any man, except that good-for-nothing, handsome h

; and Mrs. Lawrence, the soldier's wife, became at once an object of interest, of mystery, almost of jealous

sson. Mrs. Fortescue, listening and delighted with Anita's progress, came in to the drawing-room as Neroda was shouti

ould have been affable with an ogre-"I must ask you to come this evening and play my daughter's a

ybody else, was anxious to do Mrs. Fortescue's smil

scue after a moment. "He sings so charmingly. It would be del

da, "Mr. Broussard has a superb vo

ilent, but Mrs. Fortescue noticed the happy smile on her lips, as she picked a little air upon the strings; she longed

nd have the violin tuned. Anita, dropping the violin, found

must play these obligatos ov

h in her bow arm, played the violin part. She did it beautifully, and Mrs. Fortescue kissed the girl's glowing cheek when the music was through. Kettle, who was

you cert'ny kin m

aying to Broussard's singing, could not remain indoors, but putting on her long, dark fur co

ace. It was here that Anita loved to walk alone. The only objection to the place was that it gave upon the aviation field-a place abhorred by all the women at the

In one doorway stood Mrs. Lawrence, tall, young, darkly beautiful, and looking as if she might have been a C. O.'s daughter instead of being a private soldier's wife. Mrs. Lawrence was so at odds with her surroundings that Anita, unconsciously, looked questioningly at her. She stood, shading her eyes from the glare of the snow and the sun, gazin

ers and civilian employes standing about the sheds in the middle of the plain, and working with the huge machines, dragge

g as if there were no more ris

ow what we'

know why

ught a few un

of com-

raft and wished they had never been invented. But she was forced to look when she heard cries and shouts, as one of the great machines began to reel about wildly in the air, when it was only twenty feet from the earth, and then came down, with a crash, upon the snow. She saw Broussard standing on the ground, he was in uniform, with his heavy cavalry overcoat around him, and he was working with the men to drag the aviator from the machine. They got him out, and p

ome said that Lawrence was only slightly hurt; others that every bon

was nothing doing in my line; I am going to the hospital though, to see the man's wife-it is Mrs. Lawrence.

cture of Broussard folding his cape around Mrs. Lawrence's shoulders wa

ortescue and Anita were both silent and preoccupied at luncheon, and Mrs. Fortescue, who never lost her brave cheerfulne

on one of those days. You are as solemn as a mute at a funeral, and Anita always looks like a ghost when she has been

yers on aviation days," repli

reminded her husband that she be

wanted to be taken to his quarters where his wife could nurse him

grave that Colonel F

, Anita? We can get back in time

t is such a relief to have your father out of the ho

life to ride with her father and the propositio

o get his cap, and Mrs. Fortescue fastened his military cape around him, and his gloves were brough

a message to Neroda asking him to come at six o'clock, when she would have returned from he

ad then. The time was, when Colonel Fortescue felt that he knew every thought in Anita's mind, but not so any longer. He began to speak of Broussard, to try and

of red brick barracks. The electric light in the passageway fell full upon the figures of Broussard and Mrs. Lawrence as the woman impulsively put her hand

a thing to be excused by a strict Colonel, and Colonel Fo

the Commandant's house and Colonel Fortescue swung Anita from her saddle she walked into the house slowly, her eyes fixed on the ground. At the door the After-Clap m

r the practice. Mr. Broussard sings too we

milingly, into the drawing-room, Neroda followin

it with beautiful accuracy, but on this evening it was utterly inharmoniou

earing at the G-string! The spirit of music will not co

ng the violin to her ear, began tuning it. That time the

she said, with a wan smile. "The spi

, but watched his favorite pupil. Usually she took up her violin with a calm confidence, like a young Amazon taking up her well-strung bow for battle, because the violin must be subdued; it mu

presently, seeing that Anita was not concentrat

courage in her violet eyes, "Let

her full height and the bow was firm in her grasp. Neroda was a hard master, but Anita succeeded in pl

kin play the fiddle m

in, dressed to go down-stairs. The Colonel's mind had been working on the problems of Broussard's visit to Mrs. Lawrence, an

ch and too often of Broussard. And in spite of that trick of hors

o seriously. The girl will have her little affairs as other girls have

"that child has in her tragic possibiliti

scue, "but you are so ridiculously sent

ewe lamb," sa

d, wearing a gown of white and silver, with a delicious little train,

rs and dignified matrons. Broussard was the only young man present, which was unders

s that dazzle women. The Colonel also saw the color that flooded Anita's face when she took Broussard's arm to lead her in to dinner. At the table, though, Broussard found Anita strangely unlike the Anita he had been steadily falling in love with since he first saw her, three months before, when Colonel Fortescue

rence's shapely hand on his shoulder. He remained calm and smiling, nevertheless, and exerted to the utmost his power to please. But Anita remained calm and

s. Fortescue asked Broussard if he would sing; Neroda was already ther

nd he had a very good will to try the magic of his v

ano-Neroda, short and swarthy, with a rancorous voice; Anita, in her blonde beauty, look

feeling of a baritone, took up the song, while the music of Anita's violin delicately threaded the harmonies, ever following and responding to Broussard's voice. All of Anita's coldness vanished at the first strain of the music; Broussard's

nd charmed, smiled at each other; evidently a love affair was on foot such as everybody had expected since the night of the music ride. Colonel Fortescue alone was grave, leaning back in his chair with sombre eyes fixed on Broussard. He saw in Broussard a wild young officer who needed a stern warning about a soldier's handsome wife; and, while watching him, Colonel Fortescue was phrasing the very words in which he meant to call Broussard to account the next day, f

esumed. Out in the winter night Broussard cursed himself for falling in love with a child, who was an embodied caprice and did not know her own mind-one hour thrilling him with her gladness and her low voice and her violin, and the next, looking at him as if he were a stock or a stone. But she was so p

had been finding out things. He looked up the records of Broussard and Lawrence and found that they were both natives of the

o face with Broussard, headed straight for Colonel Fortescue's office. The orderly had a messag

abhorred buggy which Mrs. McGillicuddy had given him as a Christmas gift, "Hollow inside." There is something appalling to a subaltern in the kind of an interview which Broussard felt was ahead of him. He knew in advance the very tone in which Colone

ard, "when, yesterday evening, after dark, I saw you standing in the passage-way to

o explain that occurrence when I received

e it satisfactorily exp

ng the truth out of a man's mouth even if that man be a liar, and can see through the eyes of a man into his soul. This look of command sudde

is a gentleman in origin and socially ab

mes make trouble," in

r death, and more even than I do about her. The first word I had with him was on the anniversary of my mother's death. He came to my quarters and asked to see me, told me of my mother's goodness to him, and burst into tears before he got through. Of course, that melted me-my mother was one of God's angels on this earth. He is always in money troubles, and I helped him. That brought me into contact with his wife-a woman of his own class, who has stood by Lawrence, and is worthy, I think, to be clas

r a moment, and holding out his hand, which B

f which I know nothing but what you tell me," went on the Colonel. "He is

hat he loves my mother's memory, that he evidently knew her well, and that his wife is an heroic woman. I have p

hat made the Colonel think it wa

rcourse with Lawrence and his wife," said the

day's duties. The Colonel knew the truth, an

ders were fastened on the bulletin board. Broussard stopped to read them. The first name mentioned was that of Lieutenant