When we three were comfortably settled under the big _sisham_ in front of the bungalow, and the first rush of questions and answers about Privates Ortheris and Learoyd and old times and places had died away, Mulvaney said, reflectively--"Glory be there's no p'rade to-morrow, an' no bun-headed Corp'ril-bhoy to give you his lip. An' yit I don't know. Tis harrd to be something ye niver were an' niver meant to be, an' all the ould days shut up along wid your papers. Eyah! I'm growin' rusty, an' 'tis the will av God that a man mustn't serve his Quane for time an' all." He helped himself to a fresh peg, and sighed furiously. "Let your beard grow, Mulvaney," said I, "and then you won't be troubled with those notions. You'll be a real civilian." Dinah Shadd had told me in the drawing-room of her desire to coax Mulvaney into letting his beard grow. "Twas so civilian-like," said poor Dinah, who hated her husband's hankering for his old life. "Dinah Shadd, you're a dishgrace to an honust, clane-scraped man!" said Mulvaney, without replying to me. "Grow a beard on your own chin, darlint, and lave my razors alone. They're all that stand betune me and dis-ris-pect-ability. Av I didn't shave, I wud be torminted wid an outrajis thurrst; for there's nothin' so dhryin' to the throat as a big billy-goat beard waggin' undher the chin. Ye wudn't have me dhrink _always_, Dinah Shadd? By the same token, you're kapin' me crool dhry now. Let me look at that whiskey." The whiskey was lent and returned, but Dinah Shadd, who had been just as eager as her husband in asking after old friends, rent me with-- "I take shame for you, sorr, coming down here--though the Saints know you're as welkim as the daylight whin you _do_ come--an' upsettin' Terence's head wid your nonsense about--about fwhat's much better forgotten. He bein' a civilian now, an' you niver was aught else. Can you not let the Arrmy rest? 'Tis not good for Terence." I took refuge by Mulvaney, for Dinah Shadd has a temper of her own. "Let be--let be," said Mulvaney, "'Tis only wanst in a way I can talk about the ould days." Then to me:--"Ye say Dhrumshticks is well, an' his lady tu? I niver knew how I liked the grey garron till I was shut av him an' Asia."--"Dhrumshticks" was the nickname of the Colonel commanding Mulvaney's old regiment.--"Will you be seein' him again? You will. Thin tell him"--Mulvaney's eyes began to twinkle--"tell him wid Privit"--"_Mister_, Terence," interrupted Dinah Shadd. "Now the Divil an' all his angils an' the Firmament av Hiven fly away wid the 'Mister,' an' the sin av making me swear be on your confession, Dinah Shadd! _Privit_, I tell ye. Wid _Privit_ Mulvaney's best obedience, that but for me the last time-expired wud be still pullin' hair on their way to the sea." He threw himself back in the chair, chuckled, and was silent. "Mrs. Mulvaney," I said, "please take up the whiskey, and don't let him have it until he has told the story."