“Well, old friend,” said he, “and so this is your good lady. How do you do, ma'am? By fife and drum, Mr. Mainwaring, but it's a good match. You were made for one another. And this young lady your daughter, ma'am? How do you do, Miss Mainwaring?” “My dear Mr. Roberts,” said Mainwaring, “we are not so happy as to claim this young lady as a daughter. She is Miss Gourlay, daughter to Sir Thomas Gourlay, of Red Hall, now here upon a visit for the good of her health.” “How do you do, Miss Gourlay? I am happy to say that I have seen a young lady that I have heard so much of--so much, I ought to say, that was good of.” Lucy, as she replied, blushed deeply at this unintentional mention of her name, and Mrs. Mainwaring, signing to her husband, by putting her finger on her lips, hinted to him that he had done wrong. Old Sam, however, on receiving this intelligence, looked occasionally, with a great deal of interest, from Lucy to the young officer, and again from the young officer to Lucy; and as he did it, he uttered a series of ejaculations to himself, which were for the most part inaudible to the rest. “Ha!--dear me!--God bless me!--very strange!--right, old Corbet--right for a thousand--nature will prove it--not a doubt of it--God bless me!--how very like they are!--perfect brother and sister!--bless me--it's extraordinary--not a doubt of it. Bravo, Ned!” “Come, ladies,” said Mr. Mainwaring; “come, my friend, old Sam, as you like to be called, and you, Edward, come one, come all, till we try the cold ham and chicken. Miss Gou--ehem--come, Lucy, my dear, the short cut through the window; you see it open, and now, Martha, your hand; but there is old Sam's. Well done, Sam; your soldier's ever gallant. Help Miss--help the young lady up the steps, Edward. Good! he has anticipated me.” In a few minutes they were enjoying their lunch, during which the conversation became very agreeable, and even animated. Young Roberts had nothing of the military puppy about him whatsoever. On the contrary, his deportment was modest, manly, and unassuming. Sensible of his father's humble, but yet respectable position, he neither attempted to swagger himself into importance by an affectation of superior breeding or contempt for his parent, nor did he manifest any of that sullen taciturnity which is frequently preserved, as a proof of superiority, or a mask for conscious ignorance and bad breeding; the fact being generally forgotten that it is an exponent of both. “So, Edward, you like the army, then?” inquired Mr. Mainwaring. “I do, sir,” replied young Roberts; “it's a noble profession.” “Eight, Ned--a noble profession--that's the word,” said old Sam; “and so it is, my boy, and a brave and a generous one.” Lucy Gourlay and the young soldier had occasionally glanced at each other; and it might have been observed, that whenever they did so, each seemed surprised, if not actually confused.