ed buttons, and a
Scottish shawl that agreeably evaded color. She was like a duck, so tight
her plain feathers fitted her, and there she sat, smooth, snug, and
delicious, with a book in her hand, and the soupcon of her wrist just
visible as she held it. Her opposite neighbor was what I call a good style
of man--the more to his credit, since he belonged to a corporation that
frequently turns out the worst imaginable style of young men. He was a
cavalry officer, aged twenty-five. He had a mustache, but not a very
repulsive one; not one of those subnasal pigtails on which soup is
suspended like dew on a shrub; it was short, thick, and black as a coal.
His teeth had not yet been turned by tobacco-smoke to the color of juice,
his clothes did not stick to nor hang to him, he had an engaging smile,
and, what I liked the dog for, his vanity, which was inordinate, was in
its proper place, his heart, not in his face, jostling mine and other
people's who have none--in a word, he was what one oftener hears of than
meets--a young gentleman.

He was conversing in an animated whisper with a companion, a fellow
officer; they were talking about what it is far better not to--women. Our
friend clearly did not wish to be overheard; for he cast ever and anon a
furtive glance at his fair _vis-a-vis_ and lowered his voice. She seemed
completely absorbed in her book, and that reassured him.

At last the two soldiers came down to a whisper (the truth must be told),
the one who got down at Slough, and was lost to posterity, bet ten pounds
to three, that he who was going down with us to Bath and immortality would
not kiss either of the ladies opposite upon the road. "Done, done!"

Now I am sorry a man I have hitherto praised should have lent himself,
even in a whisper, to such a speculation; "but nobody is wise at all
hours," not even when the clock is striking five and twenty; and you are
to consider his profession, his good looks, and the temptation--ten to
three.

After Slough the party was reduced to three; at Twylford one lady dropped
her handkerchief; Captain Dolignan fell on it like a lamb; two or three
words were interchanged on this occasion.

At Reading the Marlborough of our tale made one of the safe investments of
that day, he bought a _Times_ and _Punch_; the latter full of steel-pen
thrusts and woodcuts. Valor and beauty deigned to laugh at some inflamed
humbug or other punctured by _Punch_. Now laughing together thaws our
huma