eath.
Never mind about time, blow each note as if it were a minim, giving a
breath to each."

It was a complete change of position, the officer diligently obeying his
subordinate, and working hard, if with no brilliant effect, till quite a
couple of hours had passed, when he laid down his flute.

"I shall never do it."

Dick smiled.

"You shall do it, sir," he cried. "I'll make you."

"You will, Smithson? Ah! if you only can! When will you come again? I
want to play it so very badly."

"To-morrow, sir," said Dick; and he went back toward his quarters,
wondering why the lieutenant wanted to play those two old-fashioned
airs.

"Surely he does not want to serenade someone."

Dick laughed quite cheerily as he thought of the lieutenant's handsome
face, and the idea tickled him for the moment; but the next moment he
sighed and felt angry with himself for his mirthful display, and forgot
the lieutenant's lessons till the next day.

CHAPTER NINETEEN.

THE NIGHT OF THE SERENADE.

Those lessons given to the lieutenant were the plus to the minus of Dick
Smithson's existence, for the young officer grew daily more friendly and
confidential. He chatted about his brother-officers and the dinner
parties to which he was invited, rapidly forgetting the gap between them
in their military status so long as they were alone, and insisted upon
paying liberally for each lesson as it was given.

This Dick felt at first disposed to resent, but the lieutenant looked at
him with so much surprise that he ended by taking his professional fee,
and no more was ever said upon that point.

One day there was a scented note upon the table; another day, in a
bashful, girlish way, which accorded strangely with the young officer's
great, manly aspect, there was a hint let fall; and before long Dick
smiled to himself as he felt certain that he had been right in his guess
as to the purpose for which the lessons were being taken.

Then came a morning when Dick walked across the barrack yard, thinking
of how thoroughly he had obliterated himself from the memory of all who
knew him, and the past from his own. But, as he approached the
lieutenant's quarters, he drove these thoughts away and ascended the
stairs, to stop on the landing, for he could hear a voice talking
loudly.

"Company!" thought Dick, and he was about to turn back, but the voice
rose higher, and he became aware of the fact that there was what an
Irishman would call "