what would put madness into
your head but to hear the march that you know your brothers and uncles
and cousins last heard when they marched on with a cheer to take death
as it happened to come to them? You might as well wonder at the
Highlanders loving the heather. That is not a very handsome flower."

Miss White was sitting quite calm and collected. A covert glance or two
had convinced the major that she was entirely mistress of the situation.
If there was any one nervous, embarrassed, excited, through this
interview, it was not Miss Gertrude White.

"The other morning," she said, complacently, and she pulled down her
dainty white cuffs another sixteenth of an inch, "I was going along
Buckingham Palace Road, and I met a detachment--is a detachment right,
Major Stuart?--of a Highland regiment. At least I supposed it was part
of a Highland regiment, because they had eight pipers playing at their
head; and I noticed that the cab horses were far more frightened than
they would have been at twice the noise coming from an ordinary band. I
was wondering whether they might think it the roar of some strange
animal--you know how a camel frightens a horse. But I envied the officer
who was riding in front of the soldiers. He was a very handsome man; and
I thought how proud he must feel to be at the head of those fine,
stalwart fellows. In fact, I felt for a moment that I should like to
have command of a regiment myself."

"Faith," said the major, gallantly, "I would exchange into that
regiment, if I had to serve as a drummer-boy."

Embarrassed by this broad compliment? Not a bit of it. She laughed
lightly, and then rose to introduce the two visitors to her father, who
had just entered the room.

It was not to be expected that Mr. White, knowing the errand of his
guests, should give them an inordinately effusive welcome; but he was
gravely polite. He prided himself on being a man of common-sense, and he
knew it was no use fighting against the inevitable. If his daughter
would leave the stage, she would; and there was some small compensation
in the fact that by her doing so she would become Lady Macleod. He would
have less money to spend on trinkets two hundred years old; but he would
gain something--a very little no doubt--from the reflected lustre of her
social position.

"We were talking about officers, papa," she said, brightly, "and I was
about to confess that I have always had a great liking for soldiers. I
know if I ha