a reputation. Things have come to a
pretty pass. You singing love-songs at him, he squeezing and kissing
your hand--perhaps going further. In these cases, women never tell the
whole truth! When he would escape by a leap from your window, you try
to keep him by strength of arm. You get on finely, madam! Three months
in the army have done wonders for you. Three months more will
accomplish you so thoroughly, that you will be fit for no other
society through life. I will tell you what, Mabel, I will not lose a
moment, but bundle you up, and pack you off to your aunt, while you
are yet worth sending!"

Between shame and indignation at this unjust assault from such a
quarter, poor Lady Mabel burst into tears, and rushed off to her room,
where she locked herself up, resolving never again to leave it until
she commenced her journey homeward. It was not long before her hasty
father repented of his coarse and violent attack on her, in a case in
which the heaviest fault was his own. He came rapping at her door, and
by dint of apologies, remonstrance, and commands, brought her out, and
induced her to spend the evening in his company. And a very
uncomfortable evening it was to both of them.

Two days after this, L'Isle rode into Elvas, and brought orders with
him that set the town astir. Such a breaking up of all the comfortable
and luxurious arrangements of messes and quarters had not been lately
seen. For Elvas was the Capua of the brigade, which had to lighten
itself of many an incumbrance, including much of what Shortridge
termed its heavy baggage, in order to bring itself to a condition to
march. There was many a woeful parting, too, and scandal says that the
ladies of Elvas might have laid the dust with their tears. But we will
leave these stories to Colonel Bradshawe.

All was confusion in the household at headquarters. Lord Strathern had
to bestir himself, to get both his brigade and himself ready to march
by one route, and Lady Mabel had to prepare for her journey by
another. It was now that Moodie's worth shone manifestly forth. The
old coach and harness were overhauled and put in order. He secured, we
believe, by impressment, another pair of mules and two postillions.
Every leaf of the _hortus siccus_ was carefully packed, and put into
the hands of an _arriero_, bound for Lisbon, and Jenny Aiken and
William, the footman, were pulled and shoved about in a way that
convinced them that it was time to be moving; yet he fou