“She went away. I honestly believe we shall never meet again, or I should not be telling you this!”
“Kla'uns,” she said lightly, taking his hand again, “don't you believe it! She won't let you go. You're one of those men that a woman, when she's once hooked on to, won't let go of, even when she believes she no longer loves him, or meets bigger and better men. I reckon it's because you're so different from other men; maybe there are so many different things about you to hook on to, and you don't slip off as easily as the others. Now, if you were like old Peyton, her first husband, or like poor Jim, or even my Boompointer, you'd be all right! No, my boy, all we can do is to try to keep her from getting at you here. I reckon she won't trust herself in Washington again in a hurry.”
“But I cannot stay here; my career is in the field.”
“Your career is alongside o' me, honey—and Boompointer. But nearer ME. We'll fix all that. I heard something about your being in disgrace, but the story was that you were sweet on some secesh girl down there, and neglected your business, Kla'uns. But, Lordy! to think it was only your own wife! Never mind; we'll straighten that out. We've had worse jobs than that on. Why, there was that commissary who was buying up dead horses at one end of the field, and selling them to the Government for mess beef at the other; and there was that general who wouldn't make an attack when it rained; and the other general—you know who I mean, Kla'uns—who wouldn't invade the State where his sister lived; but we straightened them out, somehow, and they were a heap worse than you. We'll get you a position in the war department here, one of the bureau offices, where you keep your rank and your uniform—you don't look bad in it, Kla'uns—on better pay. And you'll come and see me, and we'll talk over old times.”
Brant felt his heart turn sick within him. But he was at her mercy now! He said, with an effort,—
“But I've told you that my career—nay, my LIFE—now is in the field.”
“Don't you be a fool, Kla'uns, and leave it there! You have done your work of fighting—mighty good fighting, too,—and everybody knows it. You've earned a change. Let others take your place.”
He shuddered, as he remembered that his wife had made the same appeal. Was he a fool then, and these two women—so totally unlike in everything—right in this?
“Come, Kla'uns,” said Susy, relapsing again against his shoulder. “Now talk to me! You don't say what you think of me, of my home, of my furniture, of my position—even of him! Tell me!”
“I find you well, prosperous, and happy,” he said, with a faint smile.