rotect the
king's officers from dulness, and the king's officers, in their own
endeavours to the same end, helped perforce to banish dulness from the
lives of their entertainers. 'Twas a gay town, indeed, for some folk,
despite the vast ugly blotches wrought upon its surface by two great
fires since the war had come, and despite the scarcity of provisions
and the other inconveniences of a virtual state of siege. Tom and I
saw much of that gaiety, for indeed at that time our duties were not
as active as we wished they might be, and they left us leisure enough
to spend in the town. But we were pale candles to the European
officers--the rattling, swearing, insolent English, the tall and
haughty Scots, the courtly Hessians and Brunswickers.

"What, sister, have we grown invisible, Bert and I?" said Tom to
Margaret, as we met her in the hall one night, after we had returned
from a ball in the Assembly Rooms. "Three times we bowed to you this
evening, and got never a glance in return."

"'Faith," says she, with a smile, "one can't see these green uniforms
for the scarlet ones!"

"Ay," he retorted, with less good-humour than she had shown, "the
scarlet coats blind some people's eyes, I think, to other things than
green uniforms."

It was, I fancy, because Tom had from childhood adored her so much,
that he now took her conduct so ill, and showed upon occasion a
bitterness that he never manifested over any other subject.

"What do you mean, you saucy boy?" cried she, turning red, and looking
mighty handsome. "You might take a lesson or two in manners from some
of the scarlet coats!"

"Egad, they wouldn't find time to give me lessons, being so busy with
you! But which of your teachers do you recommend--Captain Andre, Lord
Rawdon, Colonel Campbell, or the two Germans whose names I can't
pronounce? By George, you won't be happy till you have Sir Henry
Clinton and General Knyphausen disputing for the front place at your
feet!"

[Illustration: "SHE WAS INDEED THE TOAST OF THE ARMY."]

She softened from anger to a little laugh of conscious triumph, tapped
him with her fan, and sped up the stairs. Her prediction had come
true. She was indeed the toast of the army. Her mother apparently saw
no scandal in this, being blinded by her own partiality to the royal
side. Her father knew it not, for he rarely attended the British
festivities, from which he could not in reason debar his wife and
daughters. Fanny was too innocent to se