he was dissipated, she did not or would not see it. It was the passion of her life, the time when her whole nature went to flood tide and swept away all barriers. Was her husband ever cold or indifferent? She shut her eyes to everything but her sense of possession of her idol.
Three months passed. One morning her husband informed her that he had been ordered South, and must go within two hours.
"I can be ready," said Laura, cheerfully.
"But I can't take you. You must go back to Hawkeye."
"Can't—take—me?" Laura asked, with wonder in her eyes. "I can't live without you. You said"—
"O bother what I said"—and the Colonel took up his sword to buckle it on, and then continued coolly, "the fact is Laura, our romance is played out."
Laura heard, but she did not comprehend. She caught his arm and cried, "George, how can you joke so cruelly? I will go any where with you. I will wait any where. I can't go back to Hawkeye."
"Well, go where you like. Perhaps," continued he with a sneer, "you would do as well to wait here, for another colonel."
Laura's brain whirled. She did not yet comprehend. What does this mean? Where are you going?"
"It means," said the officer, in measured words, "that you haven't anything to show for a legal marriage, and that I am going to New Orleans."
"It's a lie, George, it's a lie. I am your wife. I shall go. I shall follow you to New Orleans."
"Perhaps my wife might not like it!"
Laura raised her head, her eyes flamed with fire, she tried to utter a cry, and fell senseless on the floor.
When she came to herself the Colonel was gone. Washington Hawkins stood at her bedside. Did she come to herself Was there anything left in her heart but hate and bitterness, a sense of an infamous wrong at the hands of the only man she had ever loved?
