"WHEN I first went into the army (I suppose you and I have about the same service), I was in infantry, you know, Donald-the

-th Light Infantry-not a bad lot, but changed, as all the two-battalion regiments are now. Well, I joined the depot in Ireland, and had my head nearly drilled off; for it was at the beginning of the Crimean war, and they were drilling and shipping off as fast as they could. I was uncommonly glad, I can tell you, when I passed my drill, and was told off for the next draft for the seat of war. I was a very young ensign indeed, and if it was delightful to any of them to get away from the humdrum barrack-square and the eternal sergeant-major, it was delightful to me you may be sure. I'll never forget the night before we sailed from Queenstown-it was a great night altogether. We were all wild with delight at going to see the fighting. The old birds hoped to make up for lost time, and all we youngsters expected to be captains in a month. I remember the only thing I regretted was, that I should be promoted too soon to have many chances of carrying the colours before the enemy. Ah! there was another thing I was sorry for my brother Jack; he's dead and gone long ago, poor soul! He came down to see us off, and was tremendously cut up at parting with me; and seeing him so cut up cut me up worse, you know. I remember he said, 'I'm afraid we'll never meet again, Dolly!' Dismal, wasn't it? Of course he meant that I was safe to be killed; but I wasn't, and he died of pleurisy.'

What a difficulty the fellow had in starting! Every straw seemed

to act as a drag on his wheels; but, on the vires-acquirit-eundo principle, I let him have his head. "We had a jolly voyage and glorious weather. All the seathe Mediterranean, I mean—was crowded with ships and transports

strong fellows going out to be wounded or killed, and wounded fellows.coming home to get strong or die. Every ship we met we signalled, 'Has the place fallen?' and when the answer came, 'No,' we all cheered like madmen. We were awfully impatient. When we got into the Black Sea everybody was in a fever; and I remember, when my servant called me at four o'clock one morning, and shouted, "Here we are at the war, yer anner! glory be to God!' I rushed upon deck with nothing on but my shirt, and saw the sulky-looking rocks at the mouth of Balaklava harbour through a drizzling rain, and felt a little dashed, and thought to myself, 'Hang it! I'll never get away from this infernal place, alive or dead, either;' and then there was a tremendous boom! boom! boom!the first gun I ever beard fired in earnest and I was as right and jolly as possible in a moment. But I beg your pardon, Donald, I forgot

of course you went through the whole thing yourself, and here I am yarning away like an old manof-war's-man in his native village. I beg your pardon."

"Oh, don't mention it," said I; but my tone implied that any repetition of the sort of thing was not expected.

came.

out of that more frightened than hurt, ha, ha! Then, you remember, when the peace came none of us knew where we were going. I was horridly sold when the peace I liked the wild sort of life -didn't you? but since it was come, I hoped we might be sent off to some wild sort of place, where there was lots of shooting and adventures with-with natives, and that kind of thing; but I was sold again. I remember the colonel coming down to the mess - hut the night he got the orders about our move. He was looking disgusted. 'Where do you think we're going to, gentlemen?' he said,

Has the order come, sir?' every one shouted. 'Yes, it's come. Can you guess where we're off to?' Then we all began to sing out something-Home,' 'Canada, 'India,' 'Cape,' 'China,' 'Japan,' 'Mauritius,' &c. &c. No one ever thought of the Mediterranean, as our headquarters had gone from there to the war. After there had been a lot of guesses, and every one wrong, the old major growled out-I can hear him now-Faith, I believe we must be going to the devil!' and the colonel took the order out of his pocket and said, 'That's the nearest guess that's been made yet, major; we're going to Malta.' Most of the fellows swore a good deal, for they had had enough of that kind of thing. I felt awfully sorry myself. I hated the idea of Malta; I couldn't say why, exactly. I think it must have been a presentiment. Do you believe in presentiments, Donald?" "More or less."

"Well, I hated going there, but there we went; you've been there, I suppose?"

"Oh yes, frequently," said I, fearing a minute historical and geological survey of the island.

"Well, it was a hot summer-intolerably hot; and they had invent ed the brigade system, and we were worried to death-drilled by the colonel, grilled by the brigadier, and eaten alive by the governor.

It was abominable. I thought of taking leave; if I had, I might have been all right now, but I didn't, which was my bad luck. At last it was determined, well on in the season, to get up some garrison theatricals, and I went in strong for them. I don't mean to say I could act, but I was fond of that sort of thing, and I supported the idea and put my name_down for a £50 subscription. I had more money than most of the fellows, you see, and they thought that immense, and put me on the committee at once. I liked that, and gave another 'fifty' for scenery. After that, the fellows suddenly seemed to think I was an authority, and consulted me about everything, and I liked that, for I was a youngster, you know. So when it came to be a question what we were to do for ladies, and some one suggested that the youngest-looking fellows should take the female parts, I pooh-poohed the idea, and said, 'Nonsense, get 'em out from London ;' and when they stared and said something about its being salt, I said, ' D-n the expense, I'll guarantee another hundred;' and then every one cheered and said, 'Bravo, Burridge!' and it was settled. But they didn't let me in for a whole hundred, for the governor and the brigadiers and other swells were put on their mettle when they heard that an ensign was shelling out for everything; and the colonel got in a rage and cried, 'D-n his impudence! put me down for 'fifty'

that'll show him!' Just as if I cared, and wasn't as pleased as Punch to get his 'fifty'-the ridiculous old noodle.

"Well, we sent home to a fellow on leave to negotiate for a couple of actresses to come out for two months to play three nights a-fortnight. By this time it was late autumn, and before long we heard that two were coming out by the next mail-Miss Beatrice Armine and Miss Carlotta Seymour (jolly names, weren't they?) of the Princess's, the Haymarket, the Adelphi,

and the provinces-rather more than less of the latter, I suspect. Out they came accordingly. Beatrice Armine (Dick Winslow, who had been at Oxford, swore he remembered her under the name of Sue Mutton, daughter of a hairdresser in the High Street) wasn't a bad sort of little girl, goodnatured, quite young, cheery, and rather pretty, but she dropped her 'h's' all over the place, and was a regular cormorant as far as garlic was concerned. As for Carlotta Seymour, she was-she was a showy woman - turned of thirty-ten years older than me. She was handsome, yes, she was handsome, but she had a bad face, cold and sneering; and then she set up for a genius and mystery. To hear her talk you would have believed that she was the daughter of a royal duke in disguise, and granddaughter of the Tragic Muse.

"Well, being on the committee, and standing a lot of tin and that, of course I got to know these women immediately; and I used to think it rather a swell thing to be always about them; riding with them, or standing them dinners at the hotel, or dropping into their rooms after mess and ordering in no end of suppers. Most of the committee used to come to the suppers too, but I used to pay-I preferred to pay, because I could patronise outsiders and take them in. I liked to say to a fellow,' Disengaged to-night, old boy? Dine with me at mess, and I'll take you afterwards to see the Seymour and the Armine; they'll be delighted to see you as a friend of mine.' And of course they were delighted, for every new fellow was sure to do something for them-give them a dinner or a drive, or a mount or something, you may be sure. So every one was pleased, and no one more than myself. I thought I was no end of a man of the world -quite a celebrated fellow in the garrison, and that every one was talking of me and my dramatic suppers-confounded little goose!

and I remember being as proud as Lucifer when even the colonel noticed it; and one night when I left mess rather early, his saying, 'Is Dante going to his Beatrice, or Werther to his Charlotte?' I knew in a kind of way that he meant the suppers, and I said, 'Both, sir,' and every one roared; and I began to think, and I did think, by Jove, that I was a clever fellow after all. Carlotta kept telling me I was, and of course she was a judge, I thought. I was rather inclined to cotton to Beatrice at first, but so was every one else, and it was a bore always struggling with a dozen fellows for who was to get next her and that. And at last one night Carlotta said she was astonished that a fellow of my 'soul' should go in for Beatrice; she was disappointed in me, she said, and that Beatrice was a vulgar uneducated little milliner and a designing toad, and that it was one of the trials of her lot to be associated with her, but that she was supported by the divine aspirations of genius; and then she cried a little, and told me about Beatrice's garlic and 'h's,' though of course I knew about them; and then she said that it had been one of her few comforts in this desolate island to believe that the only man with a spark of genius (meaning me, ha, ha!) had recognised a kindred spark in her, and so on. But now she saw she was mistaken, and must try to bear it as best she might. Then she cried again, and went on humbugging me, and I swallowing it all, till I swore I quite agreed with her about Beatrice (who had snubbed me two or three times, by the by), and that I recognised the spark of genius and all that, and thought her the cleverest and handsomest woman of the day. She did look uncommon well, by Jove! And then she asked to call me 'Adolphus,' and I was to call her 'Carlotta;' and that was settled. And then she cried again, and thought I must think her bold,' and I said 'No;' and she

said something about 'angelic boy,' and Venus and Adonis, and a lot of gammon I didn't understand, though I thought it all very fine. Then she came and sat close by me, and once, when she was crying (she had two or three rounds of that kind of thing), she dropped her head on my shoulder, and left no end of a white powdery mark on my shell-jacket. I know the old crocodile wanted me to kiss her, but I didn't then. May the devil fly away with her! After that she seemed regularly to take me over, and I could scarcely call myself my own master; I wasn't -but I was proud of it; and as I rode along with her I liked to see fellows looking and grinning. I thought they were saying, "There goes Burridge, the lucky dog!'

"I was obliged to go out with her every day, and to see her to rehearsal and back from rehearsal, and to the play and back from the play; and between the acts she required champagne, and would take it from no one's hand but mine. I couldn't leave her side for an instant but she was holloaing out, 'Where's Adolphus?' so it became a sort of byword in the garrison when anybody wanted anybody; and one night Jack Whitecroft of the Artillery got screwed, and when Carlotta came on by herself as what-do-youcall-her, in the 'Lady of Lyons,' in a solemn part, he holloaed out, 'Where's Adolphus?' and the house nearly came down; but I'll be hanged if I wasn't proud of that

too.

"All the time I was tired to death of her, but she seemed immensely fond of me, and I was proud of that and the whole thing, and stuck to it. Her birthday came, and I gave a big dinner (it was her twentysecond birthday she said) in her honour, and presented her with a diamond bracelet. Then she asked me to write her some verses; I was ashamed to say I couldn't, so I got Travers to write some. He was an awfully clever, chaffy fellow, and the poem was full of the biggest

words you ever saw (I didn't understand a word of it); but somehow she didn't seem to like the verses, and said suddenly, 'On your honour, did you write this?' and of course I was obliged to say 'No,' and that Fred Travers had written them; and she would never speak to Fred again. Fred had put some of his horrid chaff in them, I suspect.

"As the time began to draw on for them to go away, she seemed to get fonder and fonder of me, and treated my opinion with immense respect, and kept asking me how I thought such and such a passage ought to be spouted, and what flowers and dresses she should wear. Then she asked my advice about her future plans. She was disgusted with her present life she said - wanted to leave the stage, but didn't know what on earth to do. She could not go to her father; he had held high diplomatic appointments, but in a personal quarrel at cards with the Emperor of Russia he had permitted himself to strike his Majesty across the table. The result was, he had been sent to the mines in Siberia, and she was left friendless, friendless! then she would cry, and, by Jupiter, I believe I used to cry too.

At last one day she said she had something very important to consult me about, but I must try to be calm-would I promise to be calm? I swore I would, and she told me that she had just had an offer of marriage there-in the islandand that the suitor held the highest rank. He had never spoken to her, but had fallen desperately in love with her on the stage; and his official position making it impossible for him to come to her personally, he had written offering her his heart and hand. She was not at liberty to divulge his name, but I might guess; and said as much as led me to understand that it was either the governor or one of the brigadiers. Then she cried out, 'How pale you are!'-but I swear I wasn'tand ran and got a big glass of sherry, and made me toss it off. Then

she told me to be calm, and asked me if I could bear her to go on, and I said, 'Of course I could.' So she went on and told me that he (meaning the governor or one of the brigadiers) was awfully jealous of me, and that his aides-de

she meant his emissaries-were always watching outside the windows, and what should I advise her to do.

"Now, Donald, I didn't care a straw about the woman, but somehow the idea of one of these big wigs wanting to marry her made me prouder of her being so taken up with me; and I didn't like the idea of her marrying any one else -heaven knows why.

"So I said it would be sacrificing her youth and beauty to-to something or other, and she cried and said I had a noble soul, and that that was conclusive; and she tore up a pink note, which I supposed to be his note, and trode upon it, and bawled out, 'Love conquers all!' Then she gave me another big glass of sherry, and said she had felt certain my feelings would be outraged, and I vowed they were outraged, and that I should like to shoot the governor or one of the brigadiers. At that moment in came Beatrice Armine, and didn't Carlotta look savage and drop into her?

"Next day I got a fever, and was confoundedly ill. Carlotta sent me notes every day-two or three times a-day-and splendid bouquets, and oranges and things; but I was ill for a fortnight, and before I was up again, or able to answer her notes, she and Beatrice had gone. Their passages had been taken by the committee, you see, and they were obliged to go. When I was getting round, the colonel came to see me he was a kind old boy; and after he had asked all about my illness and that, he said, 'It was a lucky illness for you, my boy, and all your friends ought to be glad of it.' I said, 'Why?' and he said, 'It saved you from that fiend

of a woman, by all I can hear;' and I blazed out at the colonel and told him he must retract that word, and he laughed good-naturedly, and said that if I did not like the word, of course he would, but that he was deuced glad she was off. That put me on my mettle, and I said that if it suited me to see her, of course I could still do so. And he said, 'How?' and I said, ‘Go on leave, of course.' Then the colonel's back got up, and he said he would take uncommon good care I got no leave, if that was what I was going to be at, and left me. I was a good deal spoiled by this time and savage, and sick of Malta, and I wanted a change, and perhaps I did miss Carlotta. So that very day I wrote and accepted an exchange I had been offered into the

Hussars, then in India. The colonel couldn't stop that, you know. He was awfully good when I was going away. He said, 'I'm sorry you're going, Dolly, and we're all sorry; I think you're foolish, but every one must judge for himself. I wish you luck, and if you wish it for yourself steer clear of that theatrical friend of yours, my boy.' I wish to heaven I had! Well, I went home with six months' leave to England, and to join my regiment in India when that expired. I went to London first, and found Carlotta in swell rooms in Half-Moon Street. She had a jolly little brougham, and everything in great style. She was as fond of me as ever, but she said she was writing a

tragedy and awfully busy. Charles Kean was to act in it, and was so impatient to begin that he gave her no peace; and therefore she could only see me at certain times, and mustn't be seen out with me, or Charles Kean would think she was idling, and it was so important to keep in with him. I smelt tobacco two or three times in her room, and one day saw no end of a swell cigar-case on her table, with an earl's coronet and the letter M on it, and she said Charles Kean had been there