Neither the compliment nor its reception serves to reassure Blanche. In vain she endeavours to peep past the duchess’s ample figure, and see how the red-haired daughter pulls through. The duchess rejoices in substantial materials, both of dress and fabric, so Blanche can see nothing. Another moment, and she hears her own name and Lady Mount Helicon’s pronounced in a whisper, every syllable of which thrills upon her nerves like a musket-shot. She reaches the door--she catches a glimpse of a tall, handsome young man with a blue ribbon, and a formidable-looking phalanx of princes, princesses, foreign ambassadors, and English courtiers, in a receding circle, of which she feels she is about to become the centre. Blanche would like to cry, but she is in the Presence now, and we follow her no farther. It would not become us to enlarge upon the majesty which commands reverence for the queen, or the beauty which wins homage for the woman; to speak of her as do her servants, her household, her nobility, or all who are personally known to her, would entail such language of devoted affection as in our case might be termed flattery and adulation. To hurrah and throw our hats up for her, with the fervent loyalty of an English mob--to cheer with the whole impulse of every stout English heart, and the energy of good English lungs, is more in accordance with our position and our habits, and so “Hip, hip, hip--God save the Queen.” “Oh, dear! if I’d only known,” said Blanche, some two hours afterwards, as Rosine was brushing her hair, and taking out the costly ostrich plumes and the string of pearls, “I needn’t have been so frightened after all! So good, so kind, so considerate, I shouldn’t the least mind being presented every day!” CHAPTER XI CAMPAIGNING ABROAD SHIFTING THE SCENE--UNDER CANVAS--A VETERAN AND A YOUNG SOLDIER--THE CHARMS OF A BIVOUAC--ORDERS FOR THE MORROW--A SOLDIER’S DREAM--AN EARLY START--THE MARCH--THE ENGAGEMENT--FORTUNE OF WAR--CHARLIE’S COMMAND--THE BLUE ONE DOWN!