And even yet, in the midst of a luxury and a comfort which anticipated
every want and gratified every taste, he often looked longingly back
upon the life he had left, until his nose inhaled again the scent of
the sage-brush and his eyes smarted with alkali dust. He regretted the
desolate prairies, the wide reaches of barrenness accursed of the
Creator, the wild chaos of the mountain canons, the horror of the Bad
Lands, the tingling cold of winter in the Black Hills. But the Republic
holds so high the privilege of serving her that, for the officer who
once resigns--with a good character--there is no return forever, though
he seek it with half the lobby at his heels. So Captain Farnham sat,
this fine May morning, reading a newspaper which gave the stations of
his friends in the "Tenth" with something of the feeling which assails
the exile when he cons the court journal where his name shall appear no
more.
But while he is looking at the clock a servant enters.
"That same young person is here again."
"What young person?"
There was a slight flavor of reproach in the tone of the grave
Englishman as he answered:
"I told you last night, sir, she have been here three times already;
she doesn't give me her name nor yet her business; she is settin' in
the drawin'-room, and says she will wait till you are quite at leisure.
Pages:
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25