st her, so unmercifully
did she attack poor Francis.

"Yes, they had been well acquainted when her grandfather was commandant
of the garrison, and she herself had visited at the house of the
Colonel. But no, friendship had never existed between her and the
young lady; she was too eccentric and ill-mannered. Just imagine,
Jonker, she came to our house one evening when she knew there was to
be dancing and music. Yes, she dropped in, as nonchalant as possible,
in a dark merino dress, fastened up to the neck, with a turn-down
collar and a silk neckerchief--just for all the world like a boy. And
her boots--they might have belonged to some plough-boy. Upon my word,
I believe there were nails in the soles; a non-commissioned officer
would not have been so rude as to enter a salon in them."

"Perhaps she had made a mistake about the evening," I said, by way
of excuse.

"Certainly not! She received her invitation a week beforehand. Surely
that was time enough to get a ball-dress made. And it was not because
she hadn't got any other dresses; for two days afterwards she came
to a house where we were invited to spend a quiet evening, en grande
toilette, a low dress (as if she expected to be invited to dance),
and resplendent with jewellery and diamonds. Now I ask you if that
was not done to annoy us and to wound our feelings?"

"It seems to me she took more trouble to do honour to the ladies than
she had taken to please the gentlemen."

"The truth is, she was not at all complimentary to the gentlemen,"
rejoined a thin, elderly-looking spinster of an uncertain age, dressed
in an old-fashioned style, who I should have thought would have been
the last person to come to the defence of a sex that had so clearly
neglected her.

"And the gentlemen--no doubt they reciprocated her nonchalance?" I
asked. "It is very probable she was left in the company of the elderly
ladies all the evening to increase the number of 'wall flowers.'"

"Yes! but it was because she wished it," replied the widow. "She
would be sure of partners, though she were never such a fright. All
the young officers are, as a matter of course, obliged 'to do the
amiable' to the granddaughter of their colonel. Moreover, Francis
Mordaunt is mistress of the art of attracting or repelling as it
pleases her. Notwithstanding all her strange whims and caprices,
she is never at a loss for a partner, and the moment she enters any
ball-room she becomes the observed of all obse