ds and throwing it on the grass
stamped on it; after which she flashed a glance of withering scorn upon
the flinching bystanders and--sobbed.

"I detest, despise myself," she cried, "and you--all of you!"

Then she turned and sped, sobbing, into the house.

And the Major?

Reaching his study, he seized that exquisite, that peerless
dove-coloured coat in merciless hands and wrenching it off, hurled it
into a corner and rang for the Sergeant who came at the "double."

"Zebedee," said he between his teeth, pointing to that shimmering
splendour of satin and silver lace, "take that accursed thing and burn
it--bury it--away with it and bring me my Ramillie coat."

CHAPTER XXIV

DEALS, AMONG OTHER THINGS, WITH TREASONABLE MATTERS

"Mrs. Agatha, mam," said the Sergeant, rubbing his square chin with the
handle of the shears he had just been using, "he aren't been the same
since that there night in the orchard! He be a-fading, mam, a-fading
and perishing away afore my very eyes. He aren't ate this day so much
as would keep a babe alive let alone a man like him, six foot and one
inch, mam. Consequently, this morning I did feel called upon to
re-monstrate as in dooty bound mam, and he said--so meek, so mild--so
gentle as any bleating lamb, he says to me, says he----"

The Sergeant paused to heave a sigh and shake gloomy head.

"What did he say, Sergeant?"

"Mam, he says, says he--'Damn your eyes, Sergeant Zeb!' says he--but so
mild and meek as any sucking dove----"

"Doves don't suck, Sergeant--at least I don't think so, and they never
swear, I'm sure!"

"But, Mrs. Agatha mam, so meek he said it, so soft and mournful as my
'eart did bleed for him--his honour as could curse and swear so gay and
hearty when needful! He says to me 'Zeb,' says he 'damn your eyes!' he
says so sweet as any piping finch, mam." Here the Sergeant sighed
heavily. "What's more, mam, he do talk o' marching off campaigning
again."

"You mean to fight in more wars and battles?" she enquired with a catch
in her voice.

"Aye mam, I do, and if he goes--I go as in dooty bound." Here fell a
silence wherein Mrs. Agatha stared down at her basketful of roses and
the Sergeant stared at her and rubbed his chin with the shears again.
"Mam," said he suddenly, "a fortnight ago, being the thirtieth ultimo,
towards three o'clock in the arternoon you did give me a little gold
cross which is with me now and shall be hereafter living and dead Amen!