"What, with one of those old--Oh, I say, look, look! I did not see them at first. Those are the very girls." For Richard Millet's face had been turned in the other direction, and when he first spoke he had only caught sight of the Honourable Misses Dymcox, walking side by side for their morning walk, closely followed by their three nieces, to make up for a close confinement to the house for three days, consequent upon the coming of the fresh troops to the barracks; the military being a necessary evil in the eyes of these elderly ladies, and such dreadful people that they were to be avoided upon all occasions. "Oh, those are the damsels, are they?" said Glen, watching the little party as they walked straight on along a broad gravel path. "The old ladies look as if they were marching a squad of an Amazonian brigade to relieve guard somewhere. My word: how formal and precise! Now, I'll be bound to say, my lad, that you would like to see where they are posted, and go and commit a breach of discipline by talking to the pretty sentries." "I should," cried Dick eagerly. "Did you notice them?" "Well, I must own that they are nice-looking, young inflammable, certainly." "But that first one, with the dark hair and eyes--she just glanced towards me--isn't she lovely?" "Well, now, that's odd," said Glen, smiling. "I suppose it was my conceit: do you know, I fancied that she glanced at me. At all events, I seemed to catch her eye." "Ah, it might seem so, but of course she recognised me again! Let's walk gently after them." "What for?" "To--er--well, to see which way they go." "I don't want to know which way they go, my dear lad, and if I did, why, we can see very well from where we are. There they go, along that path to the right; you can see their dresses amongst the trees; and now they have turned off to the left. Would you like to stand upon the seat?" "Oh, how cold and impassive you are! I feel as if I must see which way they go, and then we might take a short cut over the grass, and meet them again." "When those two fierce-looking old gorgons would see that you were following them up, and they would fire such a round from their watchful eyes that you, my dear boy, would retire in discomfiture, and looking uncommonly foolish. I remember once, when I was somewhere about your age, I had a very severe encounter with a chaperone in a cashmere shawl." "Oh, do get up, Glen, there's a good fellow, and let's go." "I had fallen in love with a young lady. I fancy now that she wore drawers with frills at the bottom, and that her dresses were short-- frocks, I believe." "There they are again," cried the boy, jumping up; "look, they are going down that path." "I think the young lady was still in the schoolroom, but though undeveloped, and given to slipping her shoulders out of the bands of her frock, she was very pretty--bony, but pretty--and I was desperately in love." "How wonderfully they are alike in height!"