“My dear, I am very glad to have your company, as well on the long and dreary journey over the plains as at that distant frontier fort.  You will find life at the fort with your brother a severe test to your affection for him,” said Mrs. Neville, with her rather doubtful smile.

“You have some experience of life at Fort Farthermost?” remarked Corona pleasantly.

“No; not at that particular fort.  We have never been quite so far as that yet.  It is a new fort—­an outpost really on the extreme southwestern frontier, as I understand.  We shall have to cross what used to be called the Great American Desert to reach it.  We go first to Leavenworth, and, of course, the journey to Leavenworth is easy enough.  But from Leavenworth the long, tedious traveling by army wagons over the plains and through the wilderness to the southwestern forts will try your endurance, my dear.”

“Come, come!” said the captain, heartily; “it is not all unmitigated dreadfulness.  To be sure we have no railroads through the wilderness, no fine city hotels to stay at; but, then, there are some few forts along the line of travel, where we can stop a day or two to rest, and have good sport.  And when we have no fort at the end of a day’s journey, it is not very awful to bivouac under the shelter of some friendly rock or in the thicket of some forest.  The wagons by day make good couches by night; and as for the bill of fare, a haunch of venison from a deer shot by some soldier on the road, and cooked on a fire in the open air, has a very particularly fine flavor.  All civilized condiments we carry with us.  As for amusements, though we have no theaters or concerts, yet there is always sure to be some fellow along who can sing a good song, and some other fellow who can tell a good story.  I rather think you will enjoy the trip as a novelty, Mrs. Rothsay.  I observe that most young people do.”

“I really think I shall enjoy it,” assented Corona.

“I hope that you will be able to endure it, my dear,” added Mrs. Neville.

“You see the journey is no novelty to my wife, Mrs. Rothsay.  She has spent all her married life on the frontier.  Thirty years ago, my dear lady, I received my first commission as second lieutenant in the Third Infantry, and was ordered to Okononak, Oregon.  I married my sweetheart here, and took her with me, and she has been with me ever since; for we both agreed that anything was better than separation.  We have raised children, and they have married and left us, and we have never been parted for a week.  We have lived on the frontier, and know every fort from the confines of Canada to those of Mexico.  We have lived among soldiers, savages, pioneers, scouts, border ruffians, wild beasts, and venomous reptiles all the days of our married life.  What do you think of us?”

“I think it is unjust that some military officers have to vegetate all their days in those wilds of the West, while others live for all that life is worth in the Eastern centers of civilization.”