ry
song she sang, in order that these foreigners might not mistake her
for a mere singer.

L'Isle pledged himself to be at her beck throughout the evening, and
to furnish wit and politeness without stint. This obstacle overcome,
Mrs. Shortridge was delighted, and talked gaily of her arrangements
and anticipations for the appointed night. L'Isle entering into her
humor, busied himself in drawing out a programme for Lady Mabel's
performance, and after turning over all the music at hand, made a list
of songs long enough to have cracked her voice forever. It was late
when he suddenly remembered that he had occasion to see Lord
Strathern, and he tore himself away to seek him.

L'Isle found his lordship in the business room of his quarters, and
quite at leisure, although seated by a table on which lay sundry
papers in no business like order. Most of them were despatches,
returns and other military documents. But among them was a goodly pile
of communications from the _Juiz de fora_ of more than one neighboring
_comarca_, written in eloquent but denunciatory Portuguese, being, in
truth, philippics aimed at sundry individuals or parties, belonging to
his command.

The old soldier had not treated them with absolute neglect. After
having the first two or three duly translated to him, and making
himself familiar with the tenor of this kind of document, he had
prepared a concise form of reply: regretting that any of his Majesty's
soldiers should be guilty of any act of violence, depredation or
impropriety in the country of their friends and allies, and proposing
that the accusers should come forward and prove the charges before a
court-martial, according to British laws. A copy of this stereotyped
answer, turned into good Portuguese, was always at hand to be
dispatched in reply to each new complaint, as soon as it reached
headquarters. Thus the correspondence cost little trouble there, for
Lord Strathern had an easy-going philosophy, which, like an ambling
pad, carried him smoothly over the rough and intricate path of
diplomacy, policy, and military exigencies. He knew it was impossible
to give perfect satisfaction to the Portuguese, and unlike his
commander, he eschewed all such attempts to make ropes out of
sea-sand.

L'Isle's entrance roused Lord Strathern from a pleasant reverie over
his cigar.

"Why, L'Isle! are you back again? You certainly have the gift of
appearing just when you are wanted. Is not that the case with