"For a griff, Devereaux, you give a capital answer," said Burgoyne, who had been gradually drawing near them; "we both fall in love and out of it too," he added, with a laugh that was almost saucy, for he had already suffered something at Rose's hands. "Love, like a month's pay, does not last for ever." "Even in marriage, do you mean?" asked a lady, looking up from a book of prints. "Less then, perhaps, according to Mr. Polewhele," said Rose; "orange blossoms fade and die as well as summer leaves." "What a lovely little cynic it is!" said Waller in Mabel's ear; "but she never means all she says." The conversation now became general; and save for a speaking glance from time to time, and--once at least--when their hands touched (involuntarily, of course) Denzil felt that his chances with Rose were over for the day. "Our band plays to-morrow at the grand-stand," said an officer of the 54th Native Infantry. As he spoke, Denzil's eyes met those of Rose, and swift as lightning each knew where to look for the other on the morrow. "Save with the regimental bands," said Mabel, "Rossini, Bellini and Chimarosa are all lost to us here. Papa strove hard to bring our piano up country; but it was lost in the Khyber Pass by the native artillery (who had tied it on a field piece) when some wild Khyberees appeared; and they, finding that the box emitted sounds, fired a score of juzail* balls through it on speculation." * The Afghan rifle; hence _juzailchees_, or riflemen. "When I was in the Ceylon Rifles," said a Queen's officer, "I have actually seen a piano placed in four bowls of water." "For what purpose?" asked Mabel. "To prevent the white ants from eating it up; and I was once at a dancing party in Trincomalee when, from the extreme humidity of climate, the piano--one of Broadwood's best--went all to pieces, like a house of cards; so up here, at Cabul, we can't say what might happen." "Have you seen the account in an English paper of the late skirmish with Nott's people at Candahar, and the queer story about the wounded being carried off?" asked General Trecarrel. "No," replied Burgoyne; "what was it? Something extremely 'verdant,' of course, if it referred to India." "Exactly. General Nott reported that he had thirty rank and file killed, but thrice that number wounded, were all carried off by dhooleys to the hills; on which event the editor expresses his horror in having to record that the savage tribe, known as the _Dhooleys_, swooped down from their native mountains and bore away the helpless wounded in their remorseless clutches!"