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"I'll bet that she refuses me if I do," answered the major despondently, in spite of which he retired that night feeling considerably more elated than on the preceding evening. Fortune had been smiling upon the Bohemians of late. Ever since the major's successful visit to Fenchurch Street he had been able to live in a state of luxury to which he had long been unaccustomed.
Yes what did he believe in, besides money? What does any man? He looked at the black patch over the major's eye. What had he given his eye for? the nation's money. Well, and very necessary, too; otherwise we might be where the wretched Austrians are. Instead of which how smooth his hostess' sapphires! "Of course I myself prefer Moussorgsky," said Aaron. "I think he is a greater artist.
She had been wont, once upon a time, to look out at one of her little dark windows by accident, and blushingly return the Major's greeting; but now, she never gave the Major a chance, and cared nothing at all whether he looked over the way or not. Other changes had come to pass too. Over and above all this, Miss Tox had long been dressed with uncommon care and elegance in slight mourning.
Unluckily, however, the necessity for a wife is not enforced by "general orders," as is the cut of your coat, or the length of your sabre; consequently, the major's success in the home department of his diplomacy was not destined for the same happy results that awaited it when engaged about drill trousers and camp kettles, and the Misses Dalrymple remained misses through every clime and every campaign.
I have, of course, met the lady, and found her pleasant and agreeable as a companion. Deuced pretty too; hey, Benson? Why do you say she masquerades as McDonald's niece?" "Because her maiden name was Carson and the Major's sister married a man named Counts." "There might have been another marriage. Surely McDonald must know." "Miss Molly says not, Colonel.
"Now you are here," said Miss Nelly, "you must help us with the carols. The Major's a perfect darling, but he can't sing bass for nuts. You'll do it, won't you? I'm singing, and so is Miss Willmot." Mrs. Jocelyn was generally considered a clever woman. Her husband respected her intellect.
My love for truth in all matters of history constrains me to say, that these reporters made a great mistake, since nothing could have been more simple, and yet in keeping with true greatness, than the major's reception at the hotel, and this for the very reason that he had outdistanced the rabble.
In place of the usual bunk or berth built against the wall stood a small folding camp bedstead, and upon a rude deal table that held a tin wash-basin and pail lay two ivory-handled brushes, combs, and other elegant toilet articles, evidently the contents of the major's dressing-bag.
He asked how many sailors were going to accompany the expedition, and seemed astonished to hear that only two were going. He advised Glenarvan to take all his best men, and even urged him to do it, which advice, by the way, ought to have removed the Major's suspicion. "But," said Glenarvan, "our journey is not dangerous, is it?" "Not at all," replied Ayrton, quickly.
"Well! well!" came from the major in amazement. "Can I do less?" demanded the would-be son-in-law. "My honor is at stake." "Then stand by your honor by all means," cried the military man, who, at times, was as hot-blooded as anybody. During the talk the major's daughter had come upon the scene. "Oh, Felix, what does this mean?" she demanded.
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