v]manicure set in [v]tortoise-shell with his crest in silver;
bottles of scent; the purple silk dressing-gown; a soft-fronted shirt
fitted with ruby and diamond sleeve-links; the dinner jacket and suit
laid out on the glass-topped table, with tie and handkerchief; the silk
socks, the glossy pumps.

"My, Peddle!" cried Doggie, scratching his closely-cropped head. "What's
all this?"

Peddle, gray, bent, uncomprehending, regarded him blankly.

"All what, sir?"

"I only want to wash my hands," said Doggie.

"But aren't you going to dress for dinner, sir?"

"A private soldier's not allowed to wear [v]mufti," returned Doggie.

"Who's to find out?"

"There's Mr. Oliver; he's a major."

"Ah, Mr. Marmaduke, he wouldn't mind. Miss Peggy gave me my orders, sir,
and I think you can leave things to her."

"All right, Peddle," laughed Doggie. "If it's Miss Peggy's decree, I'll
change my clothes. I have all I want."

"Are you sure you can manage, sir?" Peddle asked anxiously, for the time
was when Doggie could not stick his legs into his trousers unless Peddle
helped him.

"Quite," said Doggie.

"It seems rather roughing it, here at the Deanery, Mr. Marmaduke, after
what you've been accustomed to at the Hall," said Peddle.

"That's so," replied Doggie. "And it's martyrdom compared to what it is
in the trenches. There we always have a major-general to lace our boots
and a field-marshall to hand us coffee."

Peddle looked blank, being utterly unable to comprehend the nature of a
joke.

A little later, when Doggie went downstairs to dinner, he found Peggy
alone in the drawing-room.

"Now you look more like a Christian gentleman," she said. "Confess: it's
much more comfortable than your wretched private's uniform."

"I'm not quite so sure," he replied, somewhat ruefully, indicating his
dinner jacket, which was tightly constricted beneath the arms. "Already
I've had to slit my waistcoat down the back. Poor old Peddle will have a
fit when he sees it. I've grown a bit since these elegant rags were made
for me."

Oliver came in--in khaki. Doggie jumped up and pointed to him.

"Look here, Peggy," he said; "I'll be sent to the guard-room."

Oliver laughed. "I did change my uniform," he said. "I don't know where
my dinner clothes are."

"That's the best thing about being a major," spoke up Doggie. "They have
heaps of suits. Poor Tommy has but one suit to his name."

Then the Dean and his wife entered, and they went