![Marion's Faith.](/assets/artwork/1x1-42817eea7ade52607a760cbee00d1495.gif)
![Marion's Faith.](/assets/artwork/1x1-42817eea7ade52607a760cbee00d1495.gif)
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Marion's Faith.
Descripción editorial
They are riding slowly in from troop-drill, the battalion commander and a pet of his, Mr. Ray, of the —th Cavalry. It is one of those exquisite May mornings when the rolling prairies of Western Kansas seem swimming in a soft, hazy light, and the mirage on the horizon looks like a glassy sea. The springy turf is tinted with the hues of myriads of wild flowers, purple, pale blue, and creamy white; the mountain breeze that is already whirling the dust-clouds on the Denver plains has not yet begun to ruffle the cottonwoods or the placid surface of the slow-moving stream, and in many a sheltered pool the waters of the "Smoky Hill" gleam like silvered mirror, without break or flaw.