ptible change was coming over the colonel's manner,
which Lady Mabel did not like. In fact, Lord Strathern had pushed the
bottle briskly, though sometimes slighting it himself, as did many of
his guests; but Bradshawe made it a point of conscience to take toll
every time it passed him. He had, moreover, violated one of his own
maxims, in talking incessantly while imbibing his liquor; so she took
advantage of the next pause in his conversation to leave the table.

CHAPTER III.

You are a gentleman of excellent breeding, admirable discourse, of
great admittance; authentic in your place and person, and generally
allowed for your many warlike, courtlike, and learned
preparations.--_Merry Wives of Windsor_.

So time ran merrily on in Elvas, and most merrily at headquarters;
thanks to Lord Strathern's hospitality, and to the elegance, variety
and life Lady Mabel gave to the brilliant circle she attracted
thither.

Entering her father's sitting-room one morning, she found him in
conference with a gentleman whom she had never seen before. They were
so much engrossed in conversation, that she had time to remark,
unobserved, that he was young, handsome, and an officer of rank, but
thin and pallid, as if just released from long confinement in a sick
room. She was about to withdraw, when the stranger, turning to take a
paper from the table, saw her. After an abstracted look of admiring
curiosity, as if gazing on a fine picture, unexpectedly placed before
him, he recollected himself, and rose from his chair.

"This must be Lady Mabel Stewart. Pray, my lord, present me to your
daughter."

"What, _Ma Belle_, are you here? L'Isle, let me make you known to my
daughter. Like yourself, she occupies a distinguished post in the
brigade, though not quite so well defined as yours."

Lady Mabel acknowledged this addition to her acquaintance; then
said, "but I see you are busy, papa."

"Not at all," said he, thrusting some papers into his portfolio, "sit
with us here;" and he drew a chair for her. "L'Isle has been so long
in his sick room, that a little of our pleasant company will do him
good. You must have suffered much from solitude, L'Isle, as well as
from your wounds."

"Surgeons and servants were my sole companions. Their rude hands, too,
convinced me that our sex were never meant for nurses. A sister of
mercy would have been an angel of light; and if young and
good-looking, she might have made a convert of