“Oh, a mere passing indisposition, which unfortunately came at the moment of the Court ball. You were there, of course?” “Yes; it was there we had the pleasure to meet your friend, the general: but perhaps this is indiscreet on my part; I believe, indeed, I promised to say nothing of him.” “The general! Do you mean General d'Auvergne?” “That much I will answer you,--I do not. But ask me no more questions. Your patience will not be submitted to a long trial; he dines with us to-day.” I made no reply, but began to ponder over in my mind who the general in question could be. “There! pray do not worry yourself about what a few moments will reveal for you, without any guessing. How strange it is, the intense feeling of curiosity people are afflicted with who themselves have secrets.” “But I have none, Mademoiselle; at least, none worth the telling.” “Perhaps,” replied she, saucily. “But here come our guests.” Several persons entered the _salon_ at this moment, with each of whom I was slightly acquainted; they were either members of the Government or generals on the staff. The countess herself soon after made her appearance; and now we only waited for the individual so distinctively termed “my friend” to complete the party. “Pauline has kept our secret, I hope,” said the countess to me. “I shall be sadly disappointed if anything mars this surprise.” “Who can it be?” thought I. “Or is the whole thing some piece of badinage got up at my expense?” Scarcely had the notion struck me, when a servant flung wide the folding-doors, and announced “le Général” somebody, but so mumbled was the word, the nearest thing I could make of it was “Bulletin.” This time, however, my curiosity suffered no long delay; for quickly after the announcement a portly personage in an English uniform entered hastily, and approaching madame, kissed her hand with a most gallant air; then turning to mademoiselle, he performed a similar ceremony. All this time my eyes were riveted upon him, without my being able to make the most remote guess as to who he was. “Must I introduce you, gentlemen?” said the countess: “Captain Burke.” “Eh, what! my old friend, my boy Tom! This you, with all that mustache? Delighted to see you,” cried the large unknown, grasping me by the hands, and shaking them with a cordiality I had not known for many a year. “Really, sir,” said I, “I am but too happy to be recognized; but a most unfortunate memory--” “Memory, lad! I never forgot anything in life. I remember the doctor shaking the snow off his boots the night I was born; a devilish cold December. We lived at Benhungeramud, in the Himalaya.” “What!” cried I; “is this Captain Bubbleton, my old and kind friend?” “General, Tom,--Lieutenant-General Bubbleton, with your leave,” said he, correcting me. “How the boy has grown! I remember him when he was scarce so high.” “But, my dear captain--” “General, lieutenant-general--”