In a few weeks an ensigncy dropped in, and I got it. Time slipped insensibly away--months became years--and three passed before I revisited Ballinamore. I heard, at stated periods, from Mrs. O'Finn. The letters were generally a detail of bad luck or bad health. For the last quarter she had never marked honours--or for the last week closed an eye with rheumatism and lumbago. Still, as these _jérémiades_ covered my small allowance, they were welcome as a lover's billet. Of course, in these despatches the neighbours were duly mentioned, and every calamity occurring since her "last," was faithfully chronicled. The MacGawlys held a conspicuous place in my aunt's quarterly notices. Biddy had got a new gown--or Biddy had got a new piano--but since the dragoons had come to town there was no bearing her. Young Hastings was never out of the house--she hoped it would end well--but every body knew a light dragoon could have little respect for the daughter of a quartermaster; and Mrs. O'Finn ended her observations by hinting that if Roger went seldomer to his club, and Biddy more frequently to mass, why probably in the end it would be better for both of them. I re-entered the well-remembered street of Ballinamore late in the evening, after an absence of three years. My aunt was on a visit, and she had taken that as a convenient season for having her domicile newly painted. I halted at the inn, and after dinner strolled over the any to visit my quondam acquaintances, the MacGawlys. If I had intended a surprise, my design would have been a failure. The quartermaster's establishment were on the _qui vive_. The fact was, that since the removal of the dragoons, Ballinamore had been dull as ditch-water; the arrival of a stranger in a post-chaise, of course had created a sensation in the place, and, before the driver had unharnessed, the return of Lieutenant O'Shaughnessy was regularly gazetted, and the MacGawlys, in anticipation of a visit, were ready to receive me. I knocked at the door, and a servant with a beefsteak collar opened it. Had Roger mounted a livery? Ay--faith--there it was; and I began to recollect that my aunt O'Finn had omened badly from the first moment a squadron of the 18th lights had entered Ballinamore. I found Roger in the hall. He shook my hand, swore it was an agreeable surprise, ushered me into the dining-room, and called for hot water and tumblers. We sat down. Deeply did he interest himself in all that had befallen me--deeply regret the absence of my honoured aunt--but I must not stay at the inn, I should be his guest; and, to my astonishment, it was announced that the gentleman in the red collar had been already despatched to transport my luggage to the house. Excuses were idle. Roger's domicile was to be head-quarters; and when I remembered my old flame, Biddy, I concluded that I might for the short time I had to stay, be in a less agreeable establishment than the honest quartermaster's.