“As soon as she is able to leave the house.  Our physician has forbidden her to take any long walk or ride for some time yet.”

“And how long is this seclusion to last?”

“Until after a certain event to take place at the end of three months.”

“Ah! and then another month for convalescence!  So it will be late in the autumn before we can hope to see Mrs. Fabian Rockharrt at Rockhold!”

“I fear so, indeed, sir!”

“I do not approve of this petting, coddling, and indulging women.  It makes the weak creatures weaker.  If you choose to seclude your wife or allow her to seclude herself on account of a purely physiological condition, I will not allow Mrs. Rockharrt to go near her until she goes to return her call.”

* * * * *

When Cora reached her chamber that evening, she sat down to reflect on all that her Uncle Fabian had told her of the past history of her grandfather’s young wife, and to anticipate the possible movements of her brother.  Her own life, since the loss of her husband—­now loved so deeply, though loved too late—­she felt was over.  The future had nothing for herself.  What, therefore, could she do with the dull years in which she might long vegetate through life but to give them in useful service to those who needed help?  She would go with her brother to the frontier, and find some field of labor among the Indians.  She would found a school with her fortune, and devote her life to the education of Indian children.  And she would call the school by her lost husband’s name, and so make of it a monument to his memory.

Revolving these plans in her mind, Cora Rothsay retired to rest.  The next morning she arose at her usual hour, dressed, and went down stairs.

Old Aaron Rockharrt and his young wife were already in the parlor, waiting for the breakfast bell to ring.

She had but just greeted them when the call came, and all moved toward the breakfast room.

Just as the three had seated themselves at the table, and while Rose was pouring out the coffee, the sound of carriage wheels was heard approaching the house, and a few minutes later Mr. Clarence and Sylvan entered the breakfast room with joyous bustle.

“What—­what—­what does this unseemly excitement mean?” sternly demanded the Iron King, while Cora arose to shake hands with her uncle and brother; and while Rose, fearful of doing wrong, did nothing at all.

“What is the matter?  What has happened?  Why have you left the works at this hour of the morning, Clarence?” he requested of his son.

“I came with Sylvan, sir, for the last time before he leaves us for distant and dangerous service, and for an unlimited period.”

“Ah! you have your orders, then?” said Mr. Rockharrt, in a somewhat mollified tone.

“Yes, sir,” said the young lieutenant.  “I received my commission by the earliest mail this morning, with orders to report for duty to Colonel Glennin, of the Third Regiment of Infantry, now at Governor’s Island, New York harbor, and under orders to start for Fort Farthermost, on the Mexican frontier.  I must leave to-night in order to report in time.”