Edith, I must bid you adieu."

"So soon? Cannot you spare a single hour from your military duties?
Bless me, how pale you are looking! Are you sure you are quite well?"

"Quite--that is to say a little shaken in the nerves or so. This
continued exertion"--

"Do you mean at mess? Mr Roper told me sad stories about your
proceedings two nights ago."

"Oh, pooh--nonsense! You will certainly then appear at the races?"

"You may depend upon me."

And so I took my leave.

The reader will gather from this conversation, which took place four
days after the events detailed in last chapter, that I had effectually
made my peace with Miss Bogle. For this arrangement Mary Muggerland took
much more credit than I thought she was entitled to; however, it is of
no use quarrelling with the well disposed, especially if they are
females, as, in that case, you are sure to have the worst of it in the
long run. I did not feel quite easy, however, regarding, the
insinuations thrown out upon my unusually pallid appearance. The fact
is, that the last week had rather been a fast one. The mess was
remarkably pleasant, and all would have been quite right had we stopped
there. But I had unfortunately yielded to the fascinations of Archy
Chaffinch and some of the younger hands, who, being upon the loose,
resolved to make the very most of it, and the consequence was, that, to
the great scandal of Nelly, we kept highly untimeous hours. In fact, one
night I made a slight mistake, which I have not yet, and may never hear,
the last of, by walking, quite accidentally, into the house of my
next-door neighbour--a grave and reverend signior--instead of my own,
and abusing him like a pickpocket for his uncalled-for presence within
the shade of my patrimonial lobby. It therefore followed that sometimes
of a morning, after mounting Masaniello, I had a strong suspicion that a
hive of bees had taken a fancy to settle upon my helmet--a compliment
which might have been highly satisfactory to the infant Virgil, but was
by no means suited to the nerves or taste of an adult Writer to the
Signet.

Roper had been my guest at one of the late messes. His speech in
returning thanks for the health of his regiment was one of the richest
specimens of oratory I ever had the good fortune to hear, and ought to
be embalmed for the benefit of an aspiring posterity. It ran somewhat
thus--

"I assure you, sir, that the honour you have just conferred upon ours,
is--yas--am