The
organist gave a slight exclamation of surprise.
"Isn't this Trooper Weldon?"
The speaker's face was in shadow. Only the starred shoulder straps
gave Weldon any clue to the rank of his companion.
"It is," he answered briefly.
"Miss Dent has spoken of you. In fact, we were together at Maitland
Camp, last week, when you tried issues with the little gray
broncho."
As he spoke, he moved slightly, and the light fell full upon his
yellow hair and on his blue eyes, dark and fringed with long black
lashes. Weldon looked up at him with a smile of recognition.
"It is Captain Frazer, then?"
"Yes. I am congratulating you on having won your way into Miss
Dent's good graces. She tells me you were most thoughtful for her,
all the way out."
"You have known Miss Dent for a long time?" Weldon queried.
Captain Frazer answered the question as frankly as it was asked. For
the moment, they were man and man. In a moment more, they could
resume their formal relations of captain and soldier.
"I knew her well in England. We met at one or two house parties, a
year ago last fall. I was at her coming-out function, too." Then he
rose. "I shall see you again," he added formally.
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