This was pretty significant--Roger had come to the scratch, and there was no mistaking him. We separated for the night. I dreamed, and in fancy was blessed with a wife, and honoured with a command. Nothing could be more entrancing than my visions; and when the quartermaster's _maître d'hôtel_ roused me in the morning, I was engaged in a friendly argument with my beloved Biddy, as to which of his grandfathers our heir should be called after, and whether the lovely babe should be christened Roderick or Roger. Biddy was not at breakfast; the confounded cold still confined her to her apartment; but she hoped to meet me at dinner, and I must endure her absence until then, as I best could. Having engaged to return at five, I walked out to visit my former acquaintances. From all of them I received a warm welcome, and all exhibited some surprise at hearing that I was domesticated with the quartermaster. I comprehended the cause immediately. My aunt and Roger had probably a fresh quarrel; but his delicacy had prevented him from communicating it. This certainly increased my respect for the worthy man, and made me estimate his hospitality the more highly. Still there was an evident reserve touching the MacGawlys; and once or twice, when dragoons were mentioned, I fancied I could detect a significant look pass between the persons with whom I was conversing. It was late when I had finished my calls; Roger had requested me to be regular to time, and five was fast approaching. I turned my steps towards his dwelling-place, when, at a corner of a street, I suddenly encountered an old schoolfellow on horseback, and great was our mutual delight at meeting so unexpectedly. We were both hurried, however, and consequently our greeting was a short one. After a few general questions and replies, we were on the point of separating, when my friend pulled up. "But where are you hanging out?" said Frederick Maunsell. "I know your aunt is absent."--"I am at old MacGawly's." "The devil you are! Of course you heard all about Biddy and young Hastings!"--"Not a syllable. Tell it to me." "I have not time--it's a long story; but come to breakfast, and I'll give you all the particulars in the morning. Adieu!" He struck the spurs to his horse, and cantered off, singing-- "Oh! she loved a bold dragoon, With his long sword, saddle, bridle." I was thunderstruck. "Confound the dragoon!" thought I, "and his long sword, saddle, and bridle, into the bargain. Gad! I wish Maunsell had told me what it was. Well--what, suppose I ask Biddy herself?" I had half resolved that evening to have asked her a very different question; but, 'faith! I determined now to make some inquiries touching Cornet Hastings of the 13th, before Miss Biddy MacGawly should be invited to become Mrs. O'Shaughnessy.