errupted my one-eyed ramrod. "I'm very glad, if I may
be permitted to say so, Miss. I've made it my duty to inspect all the
troops that have been quartered hereabouts during the last eight
months. And Captain Connor is one of the few that really know their
business. I shouldn't at all mind to serve under him. I can't say more,
Miss. I wish you happiness."

She flushed and laughed and looked adorable, and held out her hand,
which he enclosed in his great left fist.

"And you'll come to my wedding, Sergeant?"

"I will, Miss," said he. "With considerable pleasure."

CHAPTER III

When I want to shew how independent I am of everybody, I drive abroad
in my donkey carriage. I am rather proud of my donkey, a lithe-limbed
pathetically eager little beast, deep bay with white tips to his ears.
Marigold bought him for me last spring, from some gipsies, when his
predecessor, Dan, who had served me faithfully for some years, struck
work and insisted on an old-age pension. He is called Hosea, a name
bestowed on him, by way of clerical joke, and I am sure with a profane
reminiscence of Jorrocks, by the Vicar, because he "came after Daniel."
At first I thought it rather silly; but when I tried to pull him up I
found that "Whoa-Ho-sea!" came in rather pat; so Hosea he has remained.
He has quite a fast, stylish little trot, and I can square my elbows
and cock my head on one side as I did in the days of my youth when the
brief ownership of a tandem and a couple of thoroughbreds would have
landed me in the bankruptcy court, had it not mercifully first landed
me in the hospital.

The afternoon after Betty's visit, I took Hosea to Wellings Park. The
Fenimores shewed me a letter they had received from Oswald's Colonel,
full of praise of the gallant boy, and after discussing it, which they
did with brave eyes and voices, Sir Anthony said:--

"I want your advice, Duncan, on a matter that has been worrying us
both. Briefly it is this. When Oswald came of age I promised to allow
him a thousand a year till I should be wiped out and he should come in.
Now I'm only fifty-five and as strong as a horse. I can reasonably
expect to live, say, another twenty years. If Oswald were alive I
should owe him, in prospectu, twenty thousand pounds. He has given his
life for his country. His country, therefore, is his heir, comes in for
his assets, his twenty years' allowance--"

"And the whole of your estate at your death?" I interposed.

"No.