ring the evening music was introduced, and it need hardly be said that
most of the songs sung were thoroughly English, and of course much
applauded; but Dexie, in her loyalty to the land she called _home_, though
living out of its borders, could scarcely conceal her annoyance, and
turning to a table near, she picked up a book of views in order to hide her
vexation. Presently she became aware that the book before her was composed
of views that were unmistakably English; and no sooner was their
nationality noted than she dropped the book as if it had burnt her fingers.

"The idea of that little spot on the earth lording it over all creation!"
she said to herself, and her lip curled in scorn.

Just then the young man at the piano struck up the notes of "Rule
Britannia," which was caught up at once by all the red-coated gentlemen
present, as if the very words were a sweet morsel under their tongues. It
ended at last with a crash, and Dexie gave a sigh of relief when she saw
the piano stool vacant.

But Mr. Gurney was making his way towards her, and, bending over her, said
in a low voice:

"Will you favor the company with some music, Miss Dexie? I have often
listened to some very enchanting strains from your fingers."

"Well, I think I can play something that will be quite as enchanting as
that we have just listened to," Dexie replied. "I don't believe that piece
was ever meant to be sung inside four walls, and those officers shout as if
they intended to raise the roof. I am afraid my playing will seem very tame
after all that bluster," she laughingly added.

"No fear of that," said Mr. Gurney, smiling. "Try and see if you cannot
beat them at their own game."

Dexie looked up quickly, and caught his meaning, and as she crossed the
room her thoughts were flying through her brain, trying to bring to mind
some song that would answer those "red-coated braggarts." A smile came to
her lips, as memory served her. Yes, she could sing something that was
quite as musical as "Rule Britannia," anyway, and echo the praise of her
own land as well. So when she passed her father she whispered:

"Give me the help of your best bass in the chorus;" and bending over
Gussie, who was listening to the remarks of a many-striped officer, who was
standing near her chair, she said in a low tone: "Give me your help this
once, Gussie, and let your alto be heard clear to the citadel."

Seating herself at the piano, she struck a few chords, and th