"We shall be as poor as the proverbial church mouse; but what does that
matter, so long as a man finds a wealth of love?"
He continued his two or three strides backwards and forwards, and then
threw himself down in his seat.
"The girl's a syren," he exclaimed, "and she has bewitched me. Hang me
if I ever thought I could feel such a fool!"
Glen's folly, as he considered it, increased in intensity like a fever.
For years past he had trifled with the complaint--rather laughed at it,
in fact; but now he had it badly, and, with the customary unreason of
men in his condition, he saw nothing but perfection in the lady who had
made his pulses throb.
Certainly, as far as appearance went, he was right, for nature could
have done no more to make her attractive. To what art had made her he
was perfectly blind, and, intoxicated by his new delight, he began to
think of how he should contrive to see her again.
Glen's mind went faster than his body, which, in spite of energetic
promptings, refused to do more than go on in a stolidly calm,
well-disciplined way, and the utmost it would accord, when urged by
passion to go and loiter about the Palace gardens or the private
apartments in the hope of seeing Clotilde, was a stroll slowly towards
Hampton.
"I'm not going to behave like a foolish boy," he said to himself. "I've
tumbled head over ears in love with her, and if I can read a woman's
face she is not indifferent to me. Till I have a chance to say so I
must wait patiently in a sensible way. It would be pleasant, though, to
walk as far as Lady Littletown's and make a call. The old lady might,
perhaps, talk about her, and I should hear a little more."
He started with the idea of walking straight to Hampton, but he met
Major Malpas, who detained him some little time. Then he encountered
Maberley, the surgeon, and had to hear an account about one of the
corporals who had been kicked by a vicious horse.
The consequence was that he did not get to Lady Littletown's on that
day, while the next was pretty well taken up with a march out and other
military duties; but free at last, he hurriedly got rid of his uniform,
and once more set off to walk to Hampton.
He had hardly seen Dick Millet since he left his quarters in dudgeon.
They had met at the mess dinner, and also during the march out, but the
little fellow had held himself aloof, and seemed hurt and annoyed.
"I must have a talk with Master Dick," said Glen to himself, as he
walked on. "He's a good little fellow at heart, and I don't like to
hurt his feelings."
He had hardly formed the thought when he heard rapid steps behind, and
directly after his name was uttered.
Turning round, there was the boy coming on at as nearly a run as his
dignity would allow.
"I say, old fellow, how fast you do walk! Either your legs are precious
long or mine are precious short."
"Little of both, perhaps. Take the happy medium, Dick."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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