Lady Rohallion had, of course, innumerable questions to ask concerning Cosmo; but, kept so distantly aloof as he had been by that uncompromising personage, Quentin found great difficulty in satisfying the anxious mother. Then Lord Rohallion asked many a question concerning the old Borderers; but as Quentin's battalion had been the second, and was consequently a new one, he had some difficulty in satisfying all his inquiries. Fresh from foreign service and the seat of war, whence some rather exaggerated stories of scrapes and perils had preceded him, Quentin experienced all the intense boredom of finding himself "an object of interest." This annoyance was all the greater, that he was absorbing and absorbed by Flora, the heiress, the general's beautiful and wealthy ward, who had already turned the heads of all the hard-up fellows in the adjacent garrison towns. All things have an end; even the longest and most stately of dinners, so in due time the ladies retired to the drawing-room. As Madame de Ribeaupierre passed Quentin, her cheek was flushed with pleasure and gratified pride by the attention she had received from the courtly old lord--that noble pair d'Ecosse; her eyes were bright, and she still looked indeed beautiful. "Ah, my child, Quentin, I can see what I can see," she whispered; "it is she whom you love, then?" "Yes, madame, most dearly," said Quentin, smiling. "C'est un ange! and I shall always love her, too!" exclaimed the impulsive Frenchwoman, as she kissed Flora's blushing cheek. "Quentin, follow us soon," said the latter, tapping him with her fan; "I want to hear more about that Spanish lady at the Villa de Maciera." The gentlemen lingered over their wine; much "shop and pipeclay" were talked, with reserve, however, as Eugene was present; but the merits of the new shako, and the probability of the expected brevet, were as usual fully discussed. The first to join the ladies in the drawing-room was Quentin, who felt very much as if in a dream, from which he might waken to find himself in the cabin of the _Bien Aimé_, in the Villa de Orsan, or, worse still, in some comfortless bivouac in Estremadura; and glad were these united friends when the guests had taken their leave, and they were all left to themselves in the drawing-room. Much conversation and many explanations ensued; and a very simple remark, by stirring a certain chord of memory, was the happy means of bringing about a very unexpected revelation or dénouement--one, indeed, so remarkable as to deserve a chapter to itself. CHAPTER XXV. THE REVELATIONS OF A NIGHT. "Gather ye rosebuds while ye may, Old Time is still a-flying; And this same flower that smiles to-day, To-morrow will be dying. Then be not coy, but use your time, And while you may, go marry; For having lost but once your prime, You may for ever tarry."--HERRICK.