"What is the use, now," she said. "They
were more disappointed than I am. I am an old
woman now. Seriously, my dear child, as you
do ask me, what was over your eyes? I declare I
thought I should have dropped when she came
in. At first I was sure there was a mistake."

"But," said he, "don't you think her pretty?
I know here she is considered the belle of the
place."

"Here" said she, with a half smile. "O,
that, of course. After your description and all,
I really felt a chill at my heart. No manners,
no style of any kind, not able to speak, and as for
dress, my dear Charles, I lay it on you to speak
seriously to her, for really it is not creditable."

How this criticism, which was in the tone of
maternal condolence, affected Captain Fermor,
may be conceived. He thought of it a good
deal afterwards, and the remark about dress
appeared to him specially just. Lady Laura
seemed anxious to change the subject, so as not
to give him pain. Sir Hopkins Pocock, she
told him, would arrive in a day or so.
"Seriously," she said, "you must lay your mind to
making way with him. He is wonderfully
inclined towards you, and said the other day you
had the making of a diplomatist in you. He is
to be a governor in a month or so, and I think
could be got to take you out with him. He will
have splendid appointments in his gift."

Fermor's face lightened. "I always thought,"
he said, tranquilly, "you should have put me in
the diplomatic line. I should have done very
well as an attaché". If I have a taste, it is for
negotiation. I should be very glad indeed to
go with Pocock."

He was, in truth, getting tired of arms, and
its dull round, which presented no opening for a
man of abilities.

"I will speak to him about it," said Lady
Laura.

Sir Hopkins arrived the next day, plenipotentiary,
as it were, accredited to a new country.
He was seen perking down the street with
an air of smirking surprise, as who should say,
"Really now, this is very forward civilisation;
quite surprising, 'pon my word." If he went
into a shop, he seemed to go as an embassy to
that shop, and prepared to negotiate a little for
the article he wanted, as if he were dealing
with the Waipiti tribe. At every turn
something—really now—quite took him by surprise.
He entered the principal bookseller's shop of the
place, and negotiated out of him the leading
persons then residing there. The principal
bookseller had an inside room where two or three
newspapers drifted about, and taking down Sir
Hopkins's name with Lady Laura's, became
impressed suddenly with respect.

"We are very full indeed now, sir," he said.
"Colonel Gouter was in here this morning, and
said he never recollected such a season. The
bishop came only yesterday."

Sir Hopkins was surprised. "No, really?
You don't tell me so? Now, is that the Bishop
—of—er——?"

"Yes, sir. Doctor Bridles. We have got
his lordship's Charge, which has made such a
sensation. Got down six copies last week, and
only one left."

Sir Hopkins was smilingly amazed. And so
this was the Charge, really now? That was
curious. Well, and who else, now?

"We never were so full. There were the
Miss Campbells, and the officers, and Major
Carter, who gave the little parties."

"Carter! Carter!" said Sir Hopkins. "What!
Not an elderly man, with light clean face, and
greyish whiskers? No. I should say not?"

"Why yes, sir," said the leading bookseller,
a little mystified by this way of putting the
thing. "Why, that is very like him. It must
be the same. He has been in the best society.
A great friend of Captain Fermor's, sir."

"O! That is very nice indeed. Come now.
A great friend," said Sir Hopkins, setting his
head on one side, and resting his hands on the
rail of a chair, as if it were his perch, and about
to drink.

"O yes; In fact, sir, they say that it was at
his house that Captain Fermor's marriage came
about. Is it not interesting?"

Then Sir Hopkins, having bought half a quire
of note-paper, and not having subscribed to the
lonely lee coast where the wrecked newspapers
were drifting about, went his way pleasantly.
This was what he called getting the lie of the
ground.

Fermor thought a good deal over what Lady
Laura had hinted. It diverted him, too, from
other unpleasant reflections. "Really," he
said to himself, "I begin to think Violet is only
a toy—a very pretty toy—and she seems scarcely
to think life can be a business at all." But he
was pleased with the notion of the diplomatic
opening. "The very thing for me," he said.
"He is most likely of the old-fashioned school,
and I will go out with him as secretary
nominally—in reality as adviser and minister."

Major Carter, he felt, had a sort of little bill
against him, and he thought he would settle it
by a dinner at the mess. "No man shall say I
am in his books," Captain Fermor added, sternly;
and Major Carter came to dinner that very day.

Mess dinners repeat themselves; hundreds of
impressions can be taken from the one mould.
The mess dinner, the mess plate, the mess
waiters, waiting as if on parade, the mess diners,
and, above all, the mess itself, are all according
to a "sealed pattern" kept at the War Office,
and turn up in every corner of the empire, as
undistinguishable as one regimental button from
another. Major Carter, as crisp and short
as thin Scotch cake, bathed pleasantly in these
scarlet waters. He paddled conversationally
among them, adapted himself to the "young
fellows," and was pronounced, with serious
military gravity, to be a man of uncommon
knowledge. Wise Folly, busy with its pipe,
shook its head with profundity at Wise Folly in
the other lounging chair, and uttered thickly
that Carter was a man that had read a good
deal. A stranger is always welcome; for they
had gone round and round over the dried-up