issary for whom
I would find good quarters."

"Oh, indeed!" said Meynell, elevating his eyebrows a good deal, "I
overlooked that. But I was not aware that you had ever seen her."

"Oh, many times: in Lisbon, last year. Indeed, on one occasion I did
her a well-timed service."

"What was that?--if I may be allowed to ask."

"Why, Mrs. Shortridge, though an excellent woman, is a little
afflicted with the disease of sight-seeing, and had thrust herself,
with a party of other heretics, into the Patriarchal Church, to
witness the rending of the veil. Do you know what that means, Meynell?
I believe you are not well drilled in theology."

"Not popish theology."

"Nor any other, I fear. However, a large detachment of the live and
dead saints were there, and, certainly, half the rabble of Lisbon. In
the rush of this devout crowd, Mrs. Shortridge got separated from her
party, and, between alarm and exhaustion, fell, fainting, on the
pavement. She would soon have been trampled to death, had I not picked
her up and carried her out bodily. I had to swear awfully at the
rabble to make them give way."

"That was no small service," said Meynell; then, glancing at the
colonel's thin form, "I am afraid you could not repeat it just now.
Mrs. Shortridge is a plump little body."

"I suppose not. Yet there is no knowing what exertions a man might
make to save a pretty woman. However, she has been very grateful ever
since, and whenever we meet we are excellent friends. I am glad
Shortridge has brought her here. She is a different sort of person
from himself. She has some very pleasant traits of character--in fact,
she is a very good woman," and he sank into a reverie, apparently
thinking over Mrs. Commissary's good qualities.

Meynell had nothing more to tell, and, hopeless of extracting any
thing more, now took leave. But when he had gone out of the room, his
colonel called him back to inquire where Shortridge was now lodged.
Having given as precise an answer as he could to this question, the
adjutant departed, trying as he went, to frame such a definition of a
good woman as would fit his view of this case.

This little conversation seemed to have revived L'Isle a good deal. He
looked out of the window and pronounced the wind to have fallen, and
that, after all, it was a very pleasant day. Calling his servant to
bring his boots and brush his clothes, he was soon after on the
_praca_ of Elvas.

This exhibited a busy scene; for t