Kitty? Was there a gazetted beauty seen
in the street, or shopping at M'Intyre's?—
she was not a patch upon Polly! A useful
and friendly claque, whose services were more
than repaid by the strong cup of tea, or a
bidding to one of the Doctor's little revels.
There was, of course, Mr. Webber, now at a
drawing-room window, now sitting on a
stool between the two girls, now "slipping
out" in obedience to a mysterious, "See
here, Billy, a word with you," from the
Doctor, appearing at the door. This was
to get Billy's "advice and opinion" on a
fresh jar of "Bushmills," and about which
his mind misgave him. Over this choice
spirit was some profound tasting and
shaking of heads, "Run a buck on us
this time, I fear, Billy," the Doctor said.
Billy, re-appearing in the drawing-room,
crept in softly on all fours, and coming up
to the parson's son, gave his calf a pinch,
at the same time uttering a clever imitation
of the yelp of a dog. The start and even
terror of the victim was welcomed with a
scream of delight. For it was by an
inexhaustible versatility in such tricks that
Mr. Webber endeared himself to his friends.

But, hearken now to a sort of musical
buzz and droning, as of a hive afar off.
From the Doctor's window it can be seen
that faces are all looking in one way.
Some begin to run. Ragged urchins come
running in, looking behind them. Now is
heard the cheerful braying of military
music—the beating of the drum—the
brazen crash—the cries—the tramping of
the crowd; yes, here is "the horse," as
they were called. Up with every window
in the Doctor's house, and every child has
to be held up so as to have a good view.
Polly is seen stretching her fine figure
very far out, with flushed excited face and
dancing eyes, now pointing, now talking
over her shoulder. She is the first to see
them as they debouch at the corner, the
sun flashing out on her bright face, the
breeze blowing on her hair. Here they
were, several abreast, the band first, all
gold and glitter, mounted on circus-like
steeds, pink nosed, yellow coated, and good-
natured looking, even to the honest and
philosophic creature who has a drum like a
round table and table cloth at each ear.

Now they all advance briskly, nodding
their heads hard, and jingling their chains.
At an interval, and riding by himself,
is the colonel, a fine burly pattern of
a man, with a noble horse, and who
rides as if he was in his arm-chair, his
gauntlet arm akimbo, and his hand upon
his hip. Colonel Bouchier's moustaches
are twirled up with a good-natured
insolence. He cannot help taking special
note of the delighted and excited Polly,
who has seen the first officers, and
proclaims her audible admiration. After him
they all come, jingle, clatter, rattle, "thud"
of hoofs, flashing, glittering—a clink clank,
never interrupted a second. All the men
in helmeted faces were turned up to the
sisters with a curious inquiry. They could
distinguish the officers at a glance.

"There, pets of my heart," said the
Doctor, when the last soldier had gone;
"there, we have them safe landed at last.
Glory be to God! I declare I could sing
Nunc Dimittis, with the best of my two
lungs, and against the most piping tenor
in a cathedral. Come, Billy, give me the
loan of your arm, and let us go up and
inspect these dear boys."

First, "a little flip," after all that
exertion of the morning—the Doctor knew no
such dry work as staring out of a window.

"We'll have fine times now, Billy,
now that we have got all this flesh and
blood into the place. You and I will be
dining twice a week at the mess. You
heard my poor darling child. Did you
ever see such an artless, over-board way,
as her young heart turned to the soldiers.
Then, with the blessing of the Lord Chief
Justice, she shall have her pick of the lot;
and you, my dear Billy, shall rope those
two loving hearts together. You, my own
domestic chaplain for many years, that have
given me many a leg-up, when I ride my
hobby horse. And, see here, Billy, don't
think I'm not up to the tricks of these Jack-
a-dandies: let 'em go thus far and no
farther; or, any farther," added he, solemnly,
"and Peter Findlater is down on them
like a cock on a percussion cap. Sir, there
was a brother of mine living at Macroom,
and one of these Jacks in red livery dared
to trifle with the 'ffections of his sister;
and, sir, he literally kicked the shoulder-
blades off that man! So, Billy, if you're
a friend to any of these new military red
mullets, you may let them know that Peter
really deals on strict business principles."

CHAPTER XII. THE THIN END OF THE WEDGE.

THE troops were all drawn up in front
of the Leader Arms, which, for the present,
was to be head-quarters for the officers,
with the whole town looking on. Colonel
Bouchier, C.B., was making hoarse roars
and bellowings, which were followed by
corresponding motions and plungings among