So closed the day of our travelers’ arrival at Fort Leavenworth.

It was Saturday afternoon, on the sixth day of the visitors’ stay at the fort, and the ladies were on the parade ground watching the drill, when the word came that the steamer was coming up the river with troops on board.

“Our raw recruits at last,” said Captain Neville, who was standing with the ladies.

“And that means, I suppose, that we are to start for Farthermost at once,” said Mrs. Neville.

“Not on the instant,” laughed the captain.

“This is Saturday afternoon.  To-morrow is Sunday.  We shall leave on Monday morning.”

“Rain or shine?”

“Fair or foul, of course,” said the captain.

It was really the steamer with the new recruits on board.  Half an hour later they landed and marched into the fort, under the command of the recruiting sergeant, and they were received with cheers.

That evening Captain Neville announced his intention to set out for Farthermost on Monday morning.  Of course this was expected.  And equally, of course, not one word was said to induce him to defer his departure for one day.  Military duty must take precedence of mere politeness.

The next day being the Sabbath, the ladies attended the morning service in the chapel of the fort.  The irrepressible Major ——­ was present, and after the benediction, attached himself to Captain Neville’s party, and walked home with them to the colonel’s quarters, but not next to Cora, who walked with Mrs. Neville.

As the major paused at the door, Mrs. ——­ had no choice but to invite him to come in and stay to dinner, adding that this was the last day of the Nevilles’ and Mrs. Rothsay’s sojourn at the fort.

The major thanked the lady, and followed her into the drawing room, where he sat talking to the colonel, while the ladies went to their rooms to lay off their bonnets and cloaks.  They came down only when called by the bell to the early Sunday dinner.

As this was the last day of the guests’ stay at Fort Leavenworth, many of the officers dropped in to say good by; so that the party sat up rather later than usual, and it was near midnight when they retired to rest.

Corona did not go to bed at once.  She sat from twelve to one writing a letter to her Uncle Clarence, not knowing how the next was to be mailed to him.

The next morning was so clear, bright, and beautiful that every one said that it must be the perfection of Indian summer.

On the road outside the walls five strong army wagons, to which stout mules were harnessed, stood in a line.  These were to serve the men as carriages by day and couches by night.  Besides these, there were two carriages of better make and more comfortable fittings for the captain and the ladies of his party.

The farewell breakfast at the colonel’s quarters partook of the nature of an official banquet.  It was unnecessarily prolonged.