evidence of Cornet Heald's occupancy. Thus, his crest
and family motto, _Nemo sibi Nascitur_, are let into the mosaic
flooring of the hall, and the drawing-room ceiling is embellished with
his initials picked out in gold.

III

Prejudice, perhaps, but unions between the sons of Mars and the
daughters of Terpsichore were in those days frowned upon by the
military big-wigs at the Horse Guards. Hence, it was not long before
an inspired note on the subject of this one appeared in the
_Standard_:

We learn from undoubted authority that, immediately on the
marriage of Lieutenant Heald with the Countess of Landsfeld,
the Marquess of Londonderry, Colonel of the 2nd Life Guards,
took the most decisive steps to recommend to Her Majesty
that this officer's resignation of his commission should be
insisted on; and that he should at once leave the regiment,
which this unfortunate and extraordinary act might possibly
prejudice.

Her Majesty, having consulted the Prince Consort and the Duke of
Wellington, shared this view. Instead, however, of being summarily
"gazetted out," the love-sick young warrior was permitted to "send in
his papers."

Thinking that he had acted precipitately in resigning, Cornet Heald
(egged on, doubtless, by Lola) endeavoured to get his resignation
cancelled. The authorities, however, were adamant. "Much curiosity,"
says a journalistic comment, "has been aroused among the Household
Troops by the efforts of this officer to regain his commission after
having voluntarily relinquished it. Notwithstanding his youth and the
fact that he had given way to a sudden impulse, Lord Londonderry was
positively inflexible. Yet the influence and eloquence of a certain
ex-Chancellor, well known to the bride, was brought to bear on him."

The "certain ex-Chancellor" was none other than Lord Brougham.

Much criticism followed in other circles. Everybody had an opinion to
advance. Most of them were far from complimentary, and there were
allusions by the dozen to "licentious soldiery" and "gilded
popinjays." The rigid editor of _The Black Book of the British
Aristocracy_ was particularly indignant. "The Army," he declared, in a
fierce outburst, "is the especial favourite of the aristocratic
section. Any brainless young puppy with a commission is free to lounge
away his time in dandyism and embryo moustaches at the public
expense."

The _Satirist_, living up to its name, also had