The next thing maybe we'd be furnishing
each other with bills of costs."

There was a scarcely suppressed laugh
down the table, in which the loud "bark"
of the colonel was conspicuous. The Doctor
looked round innocently. Mr. Hickey
flushed a little. Then he said quietly: "I
will not misunderstand that allusion, and
the enjoyment it causes. It has been often
cast in my face that my father happens to
be a solicitor. I think it bad taste, especially
as some of us live in glass houses of
the same kind."

"Oh, dear," said the Doctor, "it seems
to me, that the only bit of glass here is
over you, and you are mightily afraid a
little bit of stone will break in on you."

"Well, almost," said the other: "my
brother officers have a sort of privilege,
setting the bad taste of it out of the question.
But you are our guest here."

Young Mr. Leader here called out in a
rather excited way: "No, he is my guest
to-night. I asked him!"

The Doctor grew serious, and half rose.
By this time they were all in an anteroom,
and smoking had set in, and various
liquors were on the table.

"Oh, if it is thought I am not welcome
here — even to one of the company——"

"Nonsense," the colonel said, crimson
with rage. "I must beg, Captain Hickey,
you will not affront any guest of mine. I
won't put up with it. I am president here."

"Quite right, and it is only equity that
your guest should not affront me."

"My dear colonel," said the Doctor,
coolly, "make your mind easy; no man
walking on two legs shall affront me, without
at least my sending in a little bill of
costs; which I won't allow to be taxed
either. My friend, and no longer patient,
I am happy to say, put the right point
before the court, and I am sure his lordship
there will rule with me."

Another roar at the unpopular man
brought some colour to his cheeks.

"No longer under your hands," he said,
trying to sneer. "Can that be said with
truth?"

The Doctor bit his lip, and answered:
"I should like to ask Mr. Leader which
treatment he prefers, yours or mine: which
most conduced to his general health, eh,
Captain Hickey?"

This thrust produced a palpable effect
both on the person at whom it was aimed,
and on the company, who saw that it told,
without knowing why. Young Mr. Leader
coloured. After a pause, the Doctor
nodded his head with a sort of triumph,
and changed the conversation.

"A hand of whist, boys, and let Billy
there be orchestra, and tune his little
instrument."

The game was made; the colonel would
not play, but walked about with rolling
eyes and restless manner. In vain Mr.
Webber essayed to soothe his soul with
some of his choicest ditties; in vain the
Doctor, after he had put down a card,
would send some jest over his shoulder.
Mr. Hickey did not play, but kept his
ground, smoking steadily. Sometimes
those next the colonel heard him give a
sudden stamp, and mutter something about
"gentlemen." But the Doctor's behaviour,
as he played on, and won, was the most
piquant. He seemed to found all his
thoughts and speeches on legal metaphors.
"Trumps all round; then we're all made
parties to the suit. How d'ye know I
haven't another in remainder, though?
There, that's a ca. sa. for you!" putting
down a card violently. "And there—
there's a fi. fa., and a distringas on the top
of it." At each of these allusions the
colonel, standing over the fire, gave a
"guffaw" to himself, as if relishing the
whole intensely. When they had all
risen, and the Doctor said, looking straight
at Mr. Hickey, "Jury discharged," the
officer said, coolly, "I am surprised that
Doctor Findlater does not show more tact;
for now that this series of legal jokes is
done, you should have known that Colonel
Bouchier has been on thorns all the time."

The colonel turned on him, with eyes
starting from their sockets. "What, are
you speaking of me, sir? Leave my name
alone, sir."

"Then you should not ask a man of this
sort here to annoy us."

"We are all gentlemen here," said young
Mr. Cecil, greatly excited for his friend,
"and we don't want to have six-and-eight-
pence charged for every word we speak."

"I say nothing to you, a poor sick boy,"
said Mr. Hickey, "as you are not accountable,
and are always a mere puppet in the
hands of another. But I again ask Colonel
Bouchier if he could not be brought to
account for allowing language so offensive
to one of his own officers to go on in the
mess-room — for not only allowing it, but
encouraging it?"

"Sir!" said the colonel, beside himself
with passion, his words struggling with
each other at the gate of his mouth, and
utterly blocking the passage.