news of Mrs. Shortridge’s arrival had called forth.  After sifting and twisting the matter to their own satisfaction, they parted, and the colonel continued his stroll, chewing the cud of the last news he had swallowed.  An hour or so after, whom should he meet with, by the greatest good luck, but the commissary himself.  Now, Shortridge was rather a favorite with the colonel, being a man who knew how to make himself useful.  For instance, he was the very agent who had so judiciously declined purchasing the refuse sherry wines which Soult, Victor & Co. had contemptuously left on the market; while, with equal judgment and promptitude, he had laid in for the mess an abundant stock of the best port, malmsey and Madeira.  Two such cronies, meeting for the first time for ten days, had much conference together; in the course of which the colonel learned all about the straits Mrs. Shortridge was put to for lodgings, and how she was to be relieved through the considerate kindness of L’Isle.  This led to a minute account of the occasion on which their acquaintance began, and rather an exaggerated statement of the social relations existing between the aristocratic colonel and the Shortridge firm.

“I have been sometimes galled and ruffled by his haughty manner,” said the commissary; “but now I know it is only his manner.  He is very considerate of other people, and is getting more and more agreeable every day.”

The commissary not having, like the colonel, nothing to do, now took his leave; a little surprised, however, seeing how glad Bradshawe had been to meet with him, at his not inviting him to dine that day with the mess, as he had often done before.

It was observed at the mess table of the ——­ regiment, that the colonel was in particularly fine spirits to-day.  Always companionable, he this day enjoyed his dinner, his glass, and his jokes, and other men’s jokes, with peculiar gusto.  At length, however, the table grew thin.  Duty, pleasure, satiety, and restlessness, took off man after man, particularly of the younger officers, and the colonel was left at last to the support of three or four of his special confidants, the stanchest sitters in the regiment.

Gathering them around him, he called for a fresh decanter, filled their glasses, and ordered the last servant out of the room.  After slowly draining his glass, and dwelling awhile on the rich flavor of the wine, he remarked:  “We certainly owe a debt of gratitude to Shortridge, for the good faith in which he executes these little commissions.  They are, we should remember, quite beside his official duties.  I never tasted better Madeira of its age in my life—­it almost equals my lord’s best, which is ten years older; and I do not think that Shortridge made more than two fair profits out of us.  I met him, by the by, to-day, and would have had him to dine with us; but, for certain reasons, I think his best place, just now, is at home, watching over his domestic relations.”