And greater would his present joy have been had he known how Mary treasured the invitation his hand had addressed, with a wistful yearning for his presence, for the pressure of his hands, and the sound of his love-words over again. For since his advent at Eaglescraig, Mary had begun a new existence--a new life of self-devotion and romance. CHAPTER XIX. THE PROGRESS OF EVENTS. 'A company--I am a captain now!' thought Cecil, as he sat alone in his quarters one evening. Promotion brought him, he hoped, a little nearer _her_; but she was far off from him still, by her surroundings and the influences that were brought to bear upon her. He recalled the words of a writer who says: 'When a young man wants to marry a girl, he has already made up his mind that she is worthy of him, otherwise he would not wish to marry her. The next thing to do is to make a rigid cross-examination of himself, and see whether he is worthy of her.' Falconer did so, and, of course, deemed himself immeasurably the inferior of Mary, but more than all in worldly prospects and even social position, albeit that he was now a captain of the Cameronians; and yet only that evening, in the mess-room, he had heard rattling Dick Freeport say, that it was 'the duty of every man wearing a red coat to hook an heiress, if he wanted one.' He looked around the room in which he sat, his 'quarters,' and smiled, in spite of himself, as he mentally contrasted its appurtenances--its 'fixings,' as the Americans say--with such as were deemed absolutely necessary to the existence of one so refined as Mary Montgomerie, and he began to surmise whether or not his love was a selfish one. The bare floor, scrubbed, however, as clean as his servant, Tommy Atkins, could make it, the walls white-washed, and liable to impart their tint to everything that came in contact with them; a couple of Windsor chairs; a table liable to unpleasant collapses, especially if sat upon, as it often was; an iron camp-bed, wherein to dream of Mary and glory, with a strip of carpet, as a luxury, by its side; a washstand that took the form of a square box when the route came; a tin tub, tilted up on end in a corner; an iron coal-box, or scuttle, royally marked with 'V.R.' and an imperial crown; a fire-grate full of torn billets and cigar-ends; a rack containing sticks, whips, a couple of swords; a little narrow mantelpiece, littered with pipes, cigars, and havanna boxes; but no flowers, and not a single pretty knickknack suggestive of female influences were there. Destitute of all ornament, it was essentially a man's apartment--a very barrack-room.