Officer, standing at the window of his office, she smiled at him. But
Colonel Fortescue was not smiling; on the contrary, he was frowning as
his eyes fell upon Mrs. Fortescue's mount, Birdseye, a light built
black mare, with a shifty eye and a propensity to make free with her
hind feet. More than once Colonel Fortescue had reminded Mrs.
Fortescue that it was somewhat beneath the dignity of a Commanding
Officer's wife to ride a kicking horse. But Mrs. Fortescue had a
sneaking affection for Birdseye and much preferred her to Pretty Maid,
the brown mare Anita rode, and who was considered as demure as Anita,
and Anita was very demure, and very, very pretty. At least, so thought
Lieutenant Victor Broussard, watching her out of the tail of his eye,
as he passed some distance away. It was not so far away, however, that
Anita could not see the handsome turn of his close-cropped black head,
and his eyes full of laughter and courage and impudence. As some
things go by contraries, the glimpse of Broussard made Anita dismount
quickly from Pretty Maid and flit within doors to avoid the sight of
him. Once indoors, Anita ran where she could catch a last look of
Broussard's young figure, his cavalry cape thrown back, before he
turned the corner and was gone.

Colonel Fortescue, at the office window, returned a salute, without a
smile, to Mrs. Fortescue's greeting from afar. His teeth came together
with a snap.

"It's the last time," he said aloud--meaning that Mrs. Fortescue would
have to submit to his judgment in horses and let Birdseye alone.

What happened next turned the Colonel's resolution to adamant. A
trooper was leading Pretty Maid away and another trooper was about to
do the same for Birdseye when the black mare suddenly threw her head