"But Colonel Falkland would not exaggerate, and he does not speak of your knowledge as a smattering."
"Colonel Falkland has a kind word to say to everybody; but, after all, if one does know something of his profession, what is the good of it? If there are seven officers away from your regiment already, all the education in the world won't get a fellow on to the staff. I beg your pardon," he added; "of course this technical shop is like gibberish to you. What I mean is, that there is a fixed limit to the number of absentees from a regiment, and my turn has not come. Besides, there is Captain Braddon come back to regimental duty, a splendid officer, who ought by rights to be served first. Not that rights have much to do with it," he added, bitterly; "a little interest is worth any amount of brains in these times."
"You mustn't say that," replied his companion;" Colonel Falkland said only the other day that he was certain that you would rise to something brilliant whenever the opportunity came."
That she should have been discussing his character and prospects with their common friend, and in such sympathizing terms, sent a thrill of pride and pleasure to the young man's face; but he replied, perhaps with a dimly-conceived desire to invite still further praise, "But when will opportunity come? The days of opportunity have gone by. For us young men there is nothing left but to grow old in the humdrum monotony of a subaltern's duties." Then he stopped, feeling that he was hardly giving himself a fair chance in thus running down his own position and prospects. And yet honesty forbade that he should make out his case better than it really was. But Miss Cunningham replied —
"Colonel Falkland says that every man in India gets his opportunity, if he only knows how to make use of it. He himself says he had never seen a shot fired (isn't that the expression?) till he had been ever so many years in the army; so you see there is still a margin of time available for you, before you enter the road to fame and fortune."
There was a pause, while Yorke determined that the morning should not pass away with all its unlooked-for opportunities, without his asking her whether he might venture to hope to gain, at some future time, a greater and more valued prize than fame or fortune, and the young lady for her part plied her brush, as he stood by her side, hopeful yet uncertain, hardly daring yet longing to speak — when the door leading from her apartment opened, and Justine, the French maid, entering quietly, her work in hand, took a seat at a little distance from the table, and began silently to ply her needle.
Here was frustration of hopes. It was evident that Justine was destined to act as duenna, and that there would be no more tête-à-tête conversations for that day, unless he could contrive some device for getting rid of her. A happy thought occurred to him. Looking through the portfolio which lay on the table, he observed —
"What a number of drawings you have made already — and all sketches from life apparently! These are groups of the different servants, I suppose; and there is your pretty Selim, and the commissioner's horse too. How industrious you must have been to have done so many!"
"Yes; but few of them are finished. I have been in a hurry to collect subjects for working up when the hot season comes, and when, they tell me, it will be impossible to draw out of doors."
"Why not try a sketch of my encampment this morning, with the tents, and the bullocks and carts, and the sepoys standing about in various attitudes? It is still quite cool out of doors."
"That is a capital idea; it would make a charming subject. This is a bad time of the day for sketching, when the sun is so high; but the trees will make light and shade. Suppose we start at once. But then we may be interrupted by callers?"
"Cannot you be 'not at home,' just for this one day?"
"But is it not a shame to give people the trouble of coming all the way out along that hot dusty road from the cantonment, merely to go back again without stopping to rest? I am sure I never drive into cantonments myself in the daytime without bringing a headache back."
"But this amount of heat and dust is like the Arctic regions compared with what we are going to have by-and-by. Besides, are you always so considerate? I have heard of people coming out along that hot dusty road to find the residency doors closed, and that not so very long ago."
"Ah, I deserve your reproaches, and, will you believe me, I felt very penitent when I saw your card. But we really did not expect anybody that day, and papa was unwell, and I was keeping him company in his room. However, I owe you
