ounded who were then not sufficiently restored
to return to duty were to be conveyed to Munich, where general military
hospitals had been established; and that he himself had received
orders to repair thither with his sick detachment, in which my name was
enrolled.

"You'll keep your old friend, Francois, company, Lieutenant Burke; he is
able to move at last."

"Francois!" said I, in ecstasy; "and will he indeed recover?"

"I have little doubt of it; though certainly he's not likely to
practise as maitre d'armes again. You 've spoiled his tierce, though not
before it cost the army some of the prettiest fellows I ever saw. But as
to yourself--"

"As for me, I 'll march with the army. I feel perfectly recovered; my
arm--"

"Oh! as for monsieur's arms," said mademoiselle, "I'll answer for it,
they are quite at his Majesty's service."

"Indeed!" said the doctor, knowingly; "I thought it would come to that.
Well, well, Mademoiselle, don't look saucy; let us part good friends for
once in our lives."

"I hate being reconciled to a surgeon," said she, pettishly.

"Why so, I pray?"

"Oh, you know, when one quarrels with an officer, the poor fellow may be
killed before one sees him again; and it's always a sad thought, that.
But your doctor, nothing ever happens to him; you're sure to see him,
with his white apron and his horrid weapons, a hundred times after, and
one is always sorry for having forgiven such a cruel wretch."

"Come, come, Mademoiselle, you bear us all an ill-will for the fault
of one, and that's not fair. It was the hospital aide of the Sixth,
Monsieur, (a handsome fellow, too), who did not fall in love with her
after her wound,--a slight scratch."

"A slight scratch, do you call it?" said I, indignantly, as I perceived
the poor girl's eyes fill at the raillery of her tormentor.

"Ah! monsieur has seen it, then?" said he, maliciously. "A thousand
pardons. I have the honor to wish you both adieu." And with that, and a
smile of the most impertinent meaning, he took his leave.

"How silly to be vexed for so little, Minette!" said I, approaching and
endeavoring to console her.

"Well, but to call my wound a scratch!" said she. "Was it not too bad?
and I the only vivandiere of the army that ever felt a bullet."

And with that she turned away her head; but I could see, as she wiped
her eyes, that she cared less for the sarcasm on her wounded shoulder
than the insult to her wounded heart. Poor girl! s