hed
cheek, the moist eye, the tremulous lip!

When I think of my beautiful Lady Jane it is at that moment that
I recall her. They would have had me stay to dinner, but you will
understand, my friends, that this was no time for either Lord Rufton or
myself to remain at Gravel Hanger. This reconciled couple desired
only to be alone. In the chaise he had persuaded her of his sincere
repentance, and once again they were a loving husband and wife. If they
were to remain so it was best perhaps that I should go. Why should I
unsettle this domestic peace? Even against my own will my mere presence
and appearance might have their effect upon the lady. No, no, I must
tear myself away--even her persuasions were unable to make me stop.
Years afterward I heard that the household of the Dacres was among the
happiest in the whole country, and that no cloud had ever come again to
darken their lives. Yet I dare say if he could have seen into his wife's
mind--but there, I say no more! A lady's secret is her own, and I fear
that she and it are buried long years ago in some Devonshire churchyard.
Perhaps all that gay circle are gone and the Lady Jane only lives now
in the memory of an old half-pay French brigadier. He at least can never
forget.

VI. How the Brigadier Rode to Minsk

I would have a stronger wine to-night, my friends, a wine of Burgundy
rather than of Bordeaux. It is that my heart, my old soldier heart, is
heavy within me. It is a strange thing, this age which creeps upon one.
One does not know, one does not understand; the spirit is ever the same,
and one does not remember how the poor body crumbles. But there comes a
moment when it is brought home, when quick as the sparkle of a whirling
sabre it is clear to us, and we see the men we were and the men we
are. Yes, yes, it was so to-day, and I would have a wine of Burgundy
to-night. White Burgundy--Montrachet--Sir, I am your debtor!

It was this morning in the Champ de Mars. Your pardon, friends, while
an old man tells his trouble. You saw the review. Was it not splendid? I
was in the enclosure for veteran officers who have been decorated.

This ribbon on my breast was my passport. The cross itself I keep at
home in a leathern pouch. They did us honour, for we were placed at the
saluting point, with the Emperor and the carriages of the Court upon our
right.

It is years since I have been to a review, for I cannot approve of many
things which I have seen. I do not