the field to her adversary.
Sometimes, indeed, Aunt Becky thought she had actually finished the
exhausting campaign, when her artillery had flamed and thundered over
the prostrate enemy for a full half hour unanswered; but when, at the
close of the cannonade she marched up, with drums beating and colours
flying, to occupy the position and fortify her victory, she found, much
to her mortification, that the foe had only, as it were, lain down to
let her shrapnels and canister fly over, and the advance was arrested
with the old volley and hurrah. And there they were--not an inch
gained--peppering away at one another as briskly as ever, with the work
to begin all over again.

'You think I have neither eyes nor understanding; but I can see, young
lady, as well as another; ay, Madam, I've eyes, and some experience too,
and 'tis my simple duty to my brother, and to the name I bear, not to
mention _you_, niece, to prevent, if my influence or authority can do
it, the commission of a folly which, I can't but suspect, may possibly
be meditated, and which, even you, niece, would live very quickly to
repent.'

Gertrude did not answer; she only looked a little doubtfully at her
aunt, with a gaze of deep, uneasy enquiry. That sort of insinuation
seemed to disconcert her. But she did not challenge her aunt to define
her meaning, and the attack was soon renewed at another point.

When Gertrude walked down to the town, to the King's House, or even to
see Lily, at this side of the bridge, Dominick, the footman, was ordered
to trudge after her--a sort of state she had never used in her little
neighbourly rambles--and Gertrude knew that her aunt catechised that
confidential retainer daily. Under this sort of management, the haughty
girl winced and fretted, and finally sulked, grew taciturn and
sarcastic, and shut herself up altogether within the precincts of
Belmont.

CHAPTER XXXII.

NARRATING HOW LIEUTENANT PUDDOCK AND CAPTAIN DEVEREUX BREWED A BOWL OF
PUNCH, AND HOW THEY SANG AND DISCOURSED TOGETHER.

If people would only be content with that which is, let well alone, and
allow to-day to resemble yesterday and to-morrow to day, the human race
would be much fatter at no greater cost, and sleep remarkably well. But
so it is that the soul of man can no more rest here than the sea or the
wind. We are always plotting against our own repose, and as no man can
stir in a crowd without disturbing others, it happens that even the
q