[Illustration: "Never mind, dear, darling daddy, I love you just the
same."]

Mrs. Fortescue, who would have been affable to the Evil One himself,
smiled at Broussard. The Colonel was polite but not effusive, having
developed a rooted dislike to junior unmarried officers as soon as he
found out that Anita had to grow up, like other human beings.

Broussard felt himself in Paradise when he was walking with Anita along
the moonlit plaza toward the riding hall. Outside, troopers were
leading the restless horses up and down. Pretty Maid did not belie her
name, and was the best behaved, as she was the handsomest, of all the
mounts of the young ladies. Broussard's Gamechick, a perfectly trained
cavalry charger, with an eye and ear of beautiful intelligence, had not
his superior among the horses. Sergeant McGillicuddy, who was the best
man with horses at Fort Blizzard, was sauntering about, looking at the
horses approvingly and saying to all who cared to hear:

"As good a lot of nags as ever I see, and every blarsted one of 'em has
got four legs. It's mighty seldom nowadays, you see a four-legged
horse; most of 'em has only three legs and some of 'em ain't got as
much as two and a half."

The riders, all wearing the same uniform as Broussard and Anita,
appeared by twos and fours; bright-eyed young officers and merry girls.
Their part was not to come for an hour, but they declared the night was
too lovely to go into the waiting-room, and they strolled about and
talked horses and dancing and balls and all the happy things that fall
out "when youth and pleasure meet."