Fane, _your_ heart is as strong as ever," I added, laughing.

"Of course," answered the gallant captain; "disinterested love is
reserved for men who are too rich or too poor to mind its attendant
evils. (The first, I must say, very rarely profit by the privilege!) No!
I steel myself against all bright eyes and dancing curls not backed by a
good dowry. Heiresses, though, somehow, are always plain; I never could
do my duty and propose to one, though, of course, whenever I _do_
surrender my liberty, which I have not the smallest intention of at
present, it will be to somebody with at least fifty thousand a year.
Hearts trumps, Mount?"

"Yes--hurrah! Paget's loo'd at last.--Here, my dear, let us have lots
more punch!" said Mounteagle, addressing the female domestic, who was
standing open-mouthed at the glittering pool of half-sovereigns.

I will spare the gentle reader--if I _may_ flatter myself that I
entertain a _few_ such--a recital of the conversation which followed,
and which was kept up until the very, very "small hours;" also I will
leave it to her imagination to picture how we spent the next few days,
how we found out a few families worth visiting, how we inspired the
Layton youths with a vehement passion for smoking, billiards, and the
cavalry branch of the service, and how we and our gay uniforms and our
prancing horses were the admiration of all the young damsels in the
place.

One morning after parade, Fane and I, having nothing better to do,
lighted our cigars and strolled down one of those shady lanes which
almost reconcile one to the country--_out_ of the London season. Seeing
the gate of a park standing invitingly open, we walked in and threw
ourselves down under the trees. "Now we are in for it," said Fane, "if
we are trespassing, and any adventurous-minded gamekeeper appears. Whose
park is this?"

"Mr. Aspeden's, Ennuye told me. It's rather a nice place," I replied.

"And that castle, of which mine eyes behold the turrets afar off?" he
asked.

"Lord Linton's, I believe; the father of Jack Vernon, of the Rifles, you
know," I answered.

"Indeed! I never saw the old gentleman, but I remember his daughter
Beatrice,--we had rather a desperate flirtation at Baden-Baden. She's a
showy-looking girl," said the captain, stretching himself on the grass.

"Why did you not allow her the sublime felicity of becoming Lady
Beatrice Fane?" I asked, laughing.

"My dear fellow, she had not a _sou_! That old marqu