Knowing, from plain declarations to that effect, that her spirited sister-in-law totally disapproved of Dr. Bayard after a conversation held with him the night McLean was returned to the post, Mrs. Forrest was fain to flatter herself that these frequent visits to her were impelled by an interest transcending the professional and rapidly becoming sentimental. It really did her good; gave her something to think about besides her woes; rescued her from the slatternly ways into which she was falling and restored a faded coquetry to her dress and mien; brightened her dreary eyes and lent color to her pallid cheek, and prompted her to surround herself with those domestic barricades against unhallowed glances and unwarranted sighs,--the children. But when Fanny Forrest flatly told her it was all nonsense, this encouraging Dr. Bayard's visits on account of some supposititious malady, and that she was looking better than she had seen her look in six months, the lady took offence at the first statement and alarm at the second, and between the two a relapse was accomplished which, of course, triumphantly established the justice of her position and the ineffable cruelty of her sister's charge. Fanny Forrest's life could hardly have been pleasant just then, said superficial commentators. To every woman who called upon the lady of the house in her invalid state, Mrs. Forrest had something to say about the heartlessness and utter lack of sympathy with which she was treated; and who can doubt that the letters she wrote her soldier husband made frequent complaint to the same effect? Now, if in the domestic circle Miss Forrest had no friend or sympathizer, it was quite as bad without. With all her frankness, brilliancy, and dash, with all her willingness to be cordial and friendly, there had arisen between her and the whole sisterhood in the garrison a strange, intangible, but impenetrable barrier. She was welcome nowhere, and was too proud to inquire the cause. This state of things could not go on long, as a matter of course. Sooner or later the reason would be demanded by somebody, and then the stories would come out. Mrs. Miller and Mrs. Bruce, as recorded in an earlier chapter, had covenanted together to keep the secret; but that mysterious theft the night of the dinner at the doctor's had made the former determine on another revelation to her lord and master, the post commander. As for Mrs. Bruce, she struggled--well, womanfully--to hold her tongue, and womanfully succeeded. Two nights after McLean had been brought home and was lying in a somewhat feverish condition, the major commanding came in and softly tapped at the door of the front room. Hatton was seated at the table reading by the light of the Argand, and he arose at once and tiptoed to see who was there. "Oh! Come in, major," he said, in a low tone, throwing open the door. "Come in." "Is McLean asleep?" whispered the major. "I--I don't want to disturb him. I only wanted to inquire."