Retreat had sounded at half after five, for the autumn days grew short.
The colonel's orderly had been dismissed to his quarters. There was no
excuse, at this hour, for two young persons lingering in sentimental
corners of the steps, beyond a flagrant satisfaction in the shadow thereof
which covered them since the lighting of lamps on Officers' Row.

The colonel stood at his study window keeping his pipe alive with slow and
dreamy puffs. The moon was just clearing the roof of the men's quarters.
His eye caught a shape, or a commingling of shapes, ensconced in an angle
of the steps; the which he made out to be his daughter, in her light
evening frock with one of his own old army capes over her shoulders,
seated in close formation beside the only man at the Post who wore
civilian black.

The colonel had the feelings of a man as well as a father. He went back to
his letter with a softened look in his face. He had said too much; he
always did--to Annie; and now he must hedge a little or she would think
there was trouble brewing, and that he was going to be nasty about Moya's
choice.




III


THE INITIAL LOVE

"Let us be simple! Not every one can be, but we can. We can afford to be,
and we know how!"