upon the busiest part of the street, and others gazing
over the garden and the sea, was an experience new and bewildering. The
dwelling abounded in lobbies and corridors, in queer corners where the
gloom lurked, and in doors that gave glimpses of sombre bedsteads and
high-backed austere chairs, of china painted with the most wonderful
designs (loot of the old Indian palaces), of swords and sabretaches hung
on walls, and tables polished to such degree that they reflected their
surroundings.

They went into a parlour with its window open, upon the window-sill a
pigeon mourning among pots of wallflowers and southernwood that filled
the entering air with sweetness. A room with thin-legged chairs, with
cupboards whose lozens gave view to punch-bowls and rummers and silver
ladles, a room where the two brothers would convene at night while John
was elsewhere, and in a wan candle light sit silent by the hour before
cooling spirits, musing on other parlours elsewhere in which spurs had
jingled under the board, musing on comrades departed. It was hung around
with dark pictures in broad black frames, for the most part pictures
of battles, "Fontenoy," "Stemming the Rout at Steinkirk," "Blenheim
Field," and--a new one--"Vittoria." There were pictures of men too, all
with soldier collars high upon the nape of the neck, and epaulettes on
their shoulders, whiskered, keen-eyed young men--they were the brothers
in their prime when girls used to look after them as they went by
on their horses. And upon the mantlebrace, flanked by tall silver
candlesticks, was an engraving of John, Duke of Argyll, Field-Marshal.

"Look at that man there," said the Paymaster, pointing to the noble and
arrogant head between the candles, "that was a soldier's soldier. There
is not his like in these days. If you should take arms for your king,
boy, copy the precept and practice of Duke John. I myself modelled me
on his example, and that, mind you, calls for dignity and valour and
education and every manly part and----"

"Is that you blethering away in there, John?" cried a high female voice
from the spence.

The Paymaster's voice surrendered half its confidence and pride, for
he never liked to be found vaunting before his sister, who knew his
qualities and had a sense of irony.

"Ay! it's just me, Mary," he cried back, hastening to the door. "I have
brought a laddie up here to see you."

"It would be wiser like to bring me a man," cried the lady, coming