"It shall be as you wish, of course," said the cabinet officer; "but I've no words to say how I appreciate it. You seem to be of a different kind of timber from those fellows who are always hanging around Washington,—not but what they are all very necessary, and that sort of thing," put in the Secretary, diplomatically; "but we have no end of men who want to come to Washington. You're the first man I've heard of who wanted to go. By Jove! Captain Truscott. Is there anything else you want? Is there anything I can do that will convey to you my appreciation of your course?"
"Well, sir, I have spoken to the adjutant-general about some six men of the cavalry detachment at the Point who are eager to go to the frontier for active service. If they could be transferred,—sent out with recruits; we are short-handed in the —th, and my own troop needs non-commissioned officers."
"Certainly it can be done. We'll see General T——about it at once."
That night Grace's last hope was broken by the telegram from Washington, which told her that Jack would be home next day and that the orders were issued.
Mrs. Pelham had stormed, of course, that is—to her husband. She stood in awe of Jack, and had counted on spending much of the summer at the Point. Living as they were at a Washington hotel, expenses were very heavy, and madame had planned to recuperate her exhausted frame and fortune in a long visit to dear Grace, who really ought to have a mother's—"well, at least, if the captain is to be away so much of the time, she will surely be lonely," madame had argued. It was really quite fortunate that he had to go to Kentucky to buy horses. In his absence she might recover much of the ground she felt she had lost in the last year. The plan was fairly developed in her strategical mind, when who should appear but the captain himself, and with the brief announcement that they would start for Wyoming in a week.
Madame could not believe her senses; but either from shock or unusually profound discretion, she refrained from an expression of her sentiments, and Truscott continued his calm explanation. Grace had borne up bravely at the idea of his throwing away the detail at the Point, but had made one stipulation. She should go with him to the frontier, rebuild their nest at the new station of his troop, and be near him as woman could be during the summer's campaign, and all ready to welcome him home at its close. He could not say her nay. Old Pelham's eyes brimmed with tears, but when he spoke it was only to repress the impetuous outbreak of his wife.
"Now, Dolly, no words. Truscott's right, so is Grace. It's bound to be a sharp campaign no matter what your society friends say. By gad! I'd—I'd give anything to go, but I'm too old, Jack; I'd only be in the way. You're right, my boy. You're right; you always are. Your place is with the regiment when there's work to be done, and Grace is a soldier's wife. She's right, too. Her place is near him."
In vain Mrs. Pelham argued that Grace could better remain East. Jack knew his wife's mind. She would be just as comfortable; she would be far happier in the cosey quarters of the big garrison at Russell. She would have Mrs. Stannard, whom they all loved, for friend and companion, and there were a dozen pleasant acquaintances among the ladies there to be quartered. It was simply useless for madame to interpose. Everything had been settled beforehand and without reference to her. The best they could do was to accept Jack's invitation to come to the Point, be his guests at the hotel, and see them off. He would dismantle his quarters forthwith.
And when he returned to Grace next day she was brave, smiling, really happy. She gloried in the idea of going with her soldier husband back to the dear old —th, and she had another plan,—a surprise. She and Marion had had a long talk, and as a result Marion wanted to go too. It was novel. It was almost startling, yet—why not? Several young ladies were already visiting at Hays,—two of them were going,—had gone to Russell with relatives who were married in the —th. Miss Sanford was to have spent the summer with them at the Point. Why should she not accompany Grace to Wyoming and see something of that odd army life of which she had heard so much. If Captain Truscott would have her she knew no reason to prevent. And they all knew that in the captain's enforced absence on the campaign no one could be so great a comfort, so dear a companion to Grace, as her schoolmate Marion. There was only one question, said Truscott, "Will Mr. Sanford consent?"
"I will write to-night," said the young lady, in reply, "and I feel confident of his answer."