From the moment of her receipt of this letter, she had rehearsed the incidents therein narrated over and over again. Go where she would her thought followed her as instinctively as the homeward trail of the bee. Reflection possessed her and she was lost in the intricate maze of the world of fancy.
To follow mere instinct does not beseem a man, yet for woman this faculty is the height of reason and will be trusted by her to the very end. Marjorie's instinct told her that all would not be well with Stephen, notwithstanding his place of honor on the staff of the Commander-in-chief, to whom he might readily appeal should the occasion require. The charge was of minor consequence, and could under ordinary circumstances be dismissed; but it would not be dismissed. He would be tried, found guilty, and sentenced. A consummation too horrible for thought!
She could not enjoy herself at Peggy's function, that she knew. But she must attend, if for no other reason than for appearance. The strange regard for this officer, which she had discovered to be growing daily in intensity and depth, had been brought to definite realization by the sudden crisis in Stephen's fortunes. The sudden revelation of this truth from which she was wont to recoil with petulant diffidence alarmed her not a little. She must not allow herself to be perturbed over this incident, and no one, not even her mother, must ever be permitted to detect the slightest concern on her part.
"You seem unusually preoccupied this evening, Mistress Allison," remarked Mr. Anderson as he led her to one side of the room at the conclusion of the dance.
Marjorie started. She could feel herself coloring into a deep scarlet, which endured the more as she strove desperately to retain her natural composure.
"I? Why? No! Did I appear absent-minded?"
"As if sojourning in some far off land."
She thought for a moment.
"We all inhabit dream countries."
"True. We do. And there is no swifter vehicle to that fair land than an inattentive companion."