the army."

"I like his look," mused Edina, gazing down at the young man, who was now talking to Major Raynor. "And—I think I like his manners. His countenance has pride in it, though."

Pride it certainly had: but it was a pleasant countenance for all that. William Stane was about middle height, with a somewhat rugged, honest, intelligent face, and an earnest manner. His eyes and hair were dark.

"Won't you come down, Edina?"

Edina turned at the appeal, and took up some work that lay on the table. "I was getting short of pocket-handkerchiefs," she said, in reference to it, "so I bought half-a-dozen new ones before I left home, and am now hemming them."

Alice shrugged her pretty shoulders. "Let one of the maids hem them for you, Edina. The idea of your