The Real Charlotte. 147 



was, at least, that advantage in a complexion that burned 

 red, he thought to himself, that it made a fair moustache 

 tell. In his button-hole was a yellow rose, given him by 

 Mrs. Gascogne on condition, as she said (metaphorically it 

 is to be presumed), that he ^' rubbed it well into Lady 

 Dysart " that she had no blossom to equal it in shape and 

 beauty. A gorgeous red silk sachet with his initials em- 

 broidered in gold upon it lay on the table, and as he took a 

 handkerchief out of it his eye fell on an open letter that had 

 lain partially hidden beneath one side of the sachet. His 

 face fell perceptibly ; taking it up he looked through it 

 quickly, a petulant wrinkle appearing between his light 

 eyebrows. 



" Hang it ! She ought to know I can't get any leave now 

 before the Twelfth, and then I'm booked to Glencairn. It's 

 all rot going on like this — " He took the letter in both 

 hands as if to tear it up, but changing his mind, stuffed it in 

 among the pocket handkerchiefs, and hurried downstairs in 

 response to a shout from below. His polo-cart was at the 

 door, and in it sat Captain Cursiter, wearing an expression 

 of dismal patience that scarcely warranted Mr. Hawkins' 

 first remark. 



"Well, you seem to be in a good deal of a hurry, old 

 chap. Is it your dinner or is it Hope-Drummond ? " 



" When I'm asked to dinner at eight, I like to get there 

 before half-past," replied Cursiter sourly ; " and when you're 

 old enough to have sense you will too." 



Mr. Hawkins drove at full pace out of the barrack gates 

 before he replied, " It's all very fine for you to talk as if 

 you were a thousand, Snipey, but, by George ! we're all 

 getting on a bit." His ingenuous brow clouded under the 

 peak of his cap, and his thoughts reverted to the letter that 

 he had thrust into the sachet. " I've been pretty young at 

 times, I admit, but that's the sort of thing that makes you a 

 lot older afterwards." 



^' Good thing, too," put in Cursiter unsympathetically. 



" Yes, by Jove ! " continued Mr. Hawkins ; " I've often 

 said I'd take a pull, and somehow it never came off, but 

 I'm dashed if I'm not going to do it this time." 



Captain Cursiter held his peace, and waited for the con- 

 fidence that experience had told him would inevitably 



