"Certainly, I do," replied the sorrowful lover; "and I'm sure you can
learn to love her; she is simply an angel--a goddess. Confound it! you
can't help loving her."

"You really believe so, do you, my boy?" asked the major, with fatherly
gravity. "But how would _you_ feel about it?"

"As if no one else on earth was good enough for her--as if she was the
luckiest woman alive," quickly answered the young man, with a great deal
of his natural spirit. "'Twould heal _my_ wound entirely."

"Very well, my boy," said the major; "I'll put you out of your misery as
soon as possible."

* * * * *

Never had the major known an evening whose twilight was of such
interminable duration. When, however, the darkness was sufficient to
conceal his face, he walked quickly across the street, and to the door
of the Wittleday mansion.

That his answer was what he supposed it would be is evinced by the fact
that, a few months later, his resignation was accepted by the
Department, and Mrs. Wittleday became Mrs. Martt.

In so strategic a manner that she never suspected the truth, the major
told his _fiancee_ the story of the lieutenant's unfortunate love, and
so great was the fair widow's sympathy, that she set herself the task of
seeing the young man happily engaged. This done, she offered him the
position of engineer of some mining work on her husband's estate, and