The old butler came forward with an expression of concern and trouble on his countenance. “What does your ladyship intend,” he asked, solemnly, “that I should do with this?” touching with his foot as he spoke the dusty valise--the old soldier’s luggage, which lay very humbly as if ashamed of itself half under the big chair. Lady Markham could have laughed and she could have cried. “I don’t know what to do, Brown,” she said. Brown was very much tempted to give his mistress the benefit of his advice. He forbore, however, exercising a wise discretion, for Lady Markham, though very gracious, was proud; but he was not self-denying enough to divest himself of a general air of anxiety--the air of one who could say a great deal if he would--shaking his head slightly, and looking at the offending article which seemed to try to withdraw itself out of notice under the shadow of the chair. He could have said a great deal if he had dared. He would have bidden his mistress beware who she took into her house, Sir William wasn’t best pleased before, and if it happens again---- Perhaps Lady Markham read something of this in Brown’s eyes; and she did not like the butler’s advice, which was more or less disapproval, as all effective advice is. The result was however that before dinner the poor little valise was carried up, to the great scorn of the domestics, to a bedroom, and that Colonel Lenny, after keeping the children suspended on his lips all the evening, withdrew early, leaving the mother and daughter to an anxious consultation over him. Alice, too, had consulted a book, but it was an _Army List_ that was the subject of her studies. She came to her mother triumphantly with this volume open in her hand. “Here he is, mamma. John St. John Lenny, 50th West India Regiment. I am so glad I have found it. He is delightful. There never could be any doubt about such a thorough old soldier.” “You thought Mr. Spears interesting, Alice,” said Lady Markham, feebly. “Mamma! and so did you. He was very interesting. I have his lily that he drew for me, and it is beautiful. But he was not a gentleman. He did not know how to sit on his chair, nor how to stand, nor what to say to you or even me. He called me Miss Alice, and you my lady. But Colonel Lenny is entirely different. He is just the same as everybody else, only more amusing than most people. Did you hear the story he was telling about----?” “Oh, my dear, I was a great deal too anxious to be able to attend to any story. What if he should turn out some agitator too? what if he were a spy to see what kind of life we lead, or an impostor, or some one who has made a mistake, and takes your papa for some other Markham? If I have taken in some one else whom I ought not to have taken in, I think I shall die of shame.” “How can he be an impostor, when he is here in the _Army List_?”