Excerpt: "“Here, shall we go three in a hansom? “Hansom be hanged! It’s a lovely night. Let’s walk. “Massey is afraid the loved one will be there before him. “Never fear! A beautiful woman was never yet kept waiting by an Irishman. “Right ye are! And yet there are no men about better worth waiting for,” retorted Clarence Massey, amid the laughter of his companions The speakers were three young subalterns, who had been dining in Fitzroy Square with an enthusiastic old soldier who had been a major in their regiment fifteen years before. On learning, three weeks ago, of the arrival of his old regiment at Hounslow, he had sent to all the officers an invitation to dinner, which had been accepted by the Colonel and by such of the rest as were disengaged on the evening named. Clarence Massey, a pale-faced, bright-witted little Irishman; “Dicky” Wood, a tall, thin, weedy-looking young fellow, renowned for the sweetness of his disposition; and George Lauriston, the best-looking man and most promising young soldier in the regiment, were on their way to finish the evening at different entertainments. Lauriston was rather too well-conducted a young fellow to be altogether popular, having been brought up in Scotland, and being too much occupied with his ambitions to shake off a certain amount of reserve and rigidity left by his early training. But, on the other hand, these qualities served to heighten the strong individuality of a character uncommon both in its strength and in its weakness, and to add to that subtle gift of prestige which is so capriciously bestowed by nature. So that now, as in the old time at Sandhurst, his comrades would rather be in his society than in that of companions with whom they had greater sympathy."