one was howling at the police.

Arthur had efficiency of

not many delusions about the that body, but he knew at any rate how far their powers went, and where they ended; and he knew that in this special set of cases the disease had got beyond the police.

"If these had been ordinary times," he had argued at the brigade brigade office that morning, "my police would be even with them; but I have no doubt that these robbers are fighting men from the hills; they steal little but arms and ammunition and military gear of various kinds; and you must really oppose them by measures of your own, patrols and doubled guards."

The brigadier, who liked his grievance against the police better than meeting the difficulty by practical measures, had been very obstructive; and Arthur had left him with many severe reflections as to old owls, who won't understand a subject. He had turned homewards half forgetting the coming

guests, and had been greeted by Ida's tears, and they had been also vexatious to him. He did not like the thought of Ida talking and fretting to her friend. What could she find to fret about? He had the conviction common to man that all women's troubles, short of bereavement and poverty, are more or less fancies; and he did not like the thought of Ida who, with some peculiarities, had not so far been addicted to tears or melancholy moods, creating a sorrow the moment she had the luxury of a confidant.

person to come

He resolved to reason her out of it, resolved to put a stop to it, to show her at any rate that he was the to if anything troubled her. He felt hurt, irritated, and provoked. He did not stop to analyse Ida's possible feelings. He was impatient for the moment of any feeling but his own. Ida's submission had had at least so much effect on him that he had got used to it, and partly to require it, while

wishing at heart that she would be more independent. But none the less was he sorely vexed by this-this-nonsense was the word that manlike came to him for what he failed to understand.

CHAPTER XII.

X BATTERY, Z BRIGADE, R.H.A.

HOWEVER, the early part of the day passed away between social duties and official work, and no time was suitable for getting to the bottom of Ida's troubles. Maxwell came in just in time for the late breakfast, and all went on well.

He was good to look at: tall, with a slight active figure, fair waving hair, a skin rather too fair for a man, giving him, in spite of the red brown line which crossed his forehead at a slant, caused by the sun and his forage cap, something of a delicate look. The lower part of the face was lost in a splendid yellow beard, but above it there looked out the sharpest of blue grey eyes, that spoke of the man as ready, capable, and kindly; not a man to be weak in kindness by any means, but to be human

and tender in his strength. He had a curious mixture of penetration and sympathy, that made those under his influence feel or fancy that he knew the best and the worst of them, and yet be more comfortable in that knowledge than they could have been with His any other equally clear-sighted mortal. influence over the men of his battery was enormous, mainly, I think, that they were all individuals to him; he knew them all by name, and most of them by character, and knew and cared for all the details of their lives. As keen a soldier when on service as any of his brethren of "the regiment," steady, dauntless, and always alert, he had the rarer power of making of the life of a soldier in time of peace, a life. that was worth the living. This was was in a great degree owing owing to his high estimate of and respect for the office of leader of men. He was a little, nay a good deal, contemptuous of those officers who spoke as if active service was all that mattered in a