nd would she so?"

"O, sir, she often doth and stamps at and reviles and rails at me
morning, noon and night!"

"Poor child!" said the Major.

"Truly, sir, I do think she'd do me an injury if she didn't care for me
so much."

"Then she cares for you?"

"More than anyone in the world beside! Indeed she loveth me as
herself, sir!"

"Women be mysterious creatures!" said the Major, sententiously.

"But you know my lady belike by repute, sir?"

"Not even her name."

"Not know of the Lady Elizabeth Carlyon!" and up went a pair of
delicate black brows in scornful amaze.

"I have known but three women in my life, and one of them my mother,"
he answered.

"You sound rather dismal, methinks. But you must have remarked my lady
in the Mall, sir?"

"I seldom go to London."

"Now, sir, you sound infinite dismal and plaguily dull!"

"Dull?" repeated the Major thoughtfully, "aye perhaps I am, and 'tis
but natural--ancient men often are, I believe."

"And your peruke is all askew!"

"Alack, it generally is!" sighed the Major.

"And you wear a vile old coat!"

"Truly I fear it hath seen its best days!" sighed the Major, glancing
down wistfully at the war-worn garment in question.

"O, man," she cried, shaking her head at him, "for love of Heaven don't
be so pestilent humble--I despise humility in horse or man!"

"Humble? Am I?" queried the Major and fell to pondering the question,
chin in hand.

"Aye, truly," she answered, nodding aggressively, "your humility
nauseates me, positively!"

"Child," he answered smiling, "what manner of man would you have?"

"Grandad," she answered, "I would have him tall and strong and brave,
but--above all--masterful!"

"In a word, a blustering bully!" he answered gently, grey eyes
a-twinkle.

"Aye," she nodded vehemently, "even that, rather than--than a--a----"

"An ancient man, ill-dressed and humble," he suggested and laughed;
whereat she frowned and bit her bonnet-string in strong, white teeth,
then:

"'Tis a very beast of a coat!" she exclaimed, "stained, spotted,
tarnished, tattered and torn!"

"Torn!" exclaimed the Major, glancing down at himself again. "Egad and
Sergeant Zebedee mended it but a week since----"

"And the buttons are scratched and hanging by threads!"

"Aye, but they'll not come off," said the Major confidently, "I sewed
'em on myself."

"You sewed them--you!" and she laughed in fine scorn. "Indeed, sir, I
marvel they don't drop off und