'Good night.'

'Do you know that Laura and I are to go the day after to-morrow?

'No, indeed! I am so sorry; going where ?'

'Back to London. The Morton Langdales and others are in town, and Laura has bought clothes enough; and has tried their effect amongst her friends here.'

'I hope with pleasure and success,' said Rudolf.

'I suppose so. Some American ladies she knows appear to be satisfied. I am also. Only for your mourning you should go to some of the 'Sociables,'-they are delightful. Well, once more, good night; take this bundle of cigarettes.'

'No, thank you, I have enough. I always wind up with eau sucrée, so will come down and get it now.'

'Let me know from time to time where

you are.'

'Beaumont Grange, I suppose.'

203

CHAPTER XI.

THE INDIAN FRIEND.

THE

next day, whilst Mrs Brembridge was busy arranging for the careful removal of all her vanities and purchases in Paris, Cyril called for Rudolf to go out with him, and as they walked along the Rue de Rivoli, with a glance at the shops on the left hand and the soldiers on the right--for when was Paris so gay and so full of soldiers as a short time before the war? -it occurred to Mr Beaumont that Cyril was leading him, so he asked,

'Where are we off to?'

Before he had time for a reply, a tall man with white moustache, and a dark

handsome face, came forth from the Porte cochère of one of the fashionable hotels.

'Oh, here you are!' he said, extending his hand to Cyril.

'My father, General Brembridge, Mr Beaumont.'

Hats were lifted, and the introduction made, the three turned into the gardens of the Tuileries together. Cyril looked very proud of his Indian friend.

'I worked at Paris a little yesterday, and am satisfied now, Cyril, and ready to go with you and Laura to-morrow.'

son.

'That will be very pleasant,' said his

'Mr Beaumont, Cyril tells me you are his friend, his only one, he says. All the better; people do not want a multitude. I hope to be in town for a year, and shall have pleasure in seeing you as often as you please.'

'Do you go back, then, to India ?'

'Yes, I expect so. I have been there

all my life, and am used to it, and except Cyril, who is independent of me, I have no ties in England. People are generally crowded with relations and friends, it is rare for a man to come home as I do. I had a brother-you have heard the story, Cyril? When I first came home on leave, he was on his way out; we met at night in the Desert, in the days of sand and camels, Mr Beaumont- looked at each other by torch-light, and never met again. He gave in to the first fever. I held out over fifty fevers, choleras, and engagements.'

'And the Mutiny, sir,' said his son.

'Yes, that has gone into print. Cyril, I want to see the Musée de l'Artillerie. You come too, Mr Beaumont. How do we set about it?'

Rudolf, knowing all particulars, went with them, and an agreeable hour or two passed.

General Brembridge dined at the hotel

in which Cyril and Laura and the Beaumont's lived. After he left his son said, 'Is not that a father to be proud of?' 'He is indeed,' said his friend.

'I should like very much to tell you a singular episode in his life, which was saved by a poor fellow who gave his own for him.'

'Tell me about it too, Cyril,' said Laura; 'I like that poor fellow, he gave his life in a good cause.'

Mrs Brembridge met her father-in-law in Paris, not having seen him before, and told her husband she liked the father better than the son!

'It is quite early,' said Bessie, 'tell us the story now, Major Brembridge, whilst we are together, it may be some time before we meet again.'

Cyril told him about a pleasant country place, of a still summer afternoon, and a young man who walked across a heath which had a lonely footpath, and a clump