Wherewith commenced a discussion of military friends—­who had been heard of from Australia, who had been met in England, who was promoted, who married, who retired, &c., and all the quarters of the -th since its return from India two years ago; Fanny eagerly asking questions and making remarks, quite at home and all animation, absolutely a different being from the subdued, meek little creature that Rachel had hitherto seen.  Attempts were made to include Miss Curtis in the conversation by addressing anecdotes to her, and asking if she knew the places named; but she had been to none, and the three old friends quickly fell into the swing of talk about what interested them.  Once, however, she came down on them with, “What conclusion have you formed upon female emigration?”

    “’His sister she went beyond the seas,
      And died an old maid among black savagees.’

“That’s the most remarkable instance of female emigration on record, isn’t it?” observed Alick.

“What; her dying an old maid?” said Colonel Keith.  “I am not sure.  Wholesale exportations of wives are spoiling the market.”

“I did not mean marriage,” said Rachel, stoutly.  “I am particularly anxious to know whether there is a field open to independent female labour.”

“All the superior young women seemed to turn nurserymaids,” said the Colonel.

“Oh,” interposed Fanny, “do you remember that nice girl of ours who would marry that Orderly-Sergeant O’Donoghoe?  I have had a letter from her in such distress.”

“Of course, the natural termination,” said Alick, in his lazy voice.

“And I thought you would tell me how to manage sending her some help,” proceeded Fanny.

“I could have helped you, Fanny.  Won’t an order do it?”

“Not quite,” said Fanny, a shade of a smile playing on her lip.  “It is whether to send it through one of the officers or not.  If Captain Lee is with the regiment, I know he would take care of it for her.”

So they plunged into another regiment, and Rachel decided that nothing was so wearisome as to hear triflers talk shop.

There was no opportunity of calling Fanny to order after dinner, for she went off on her progress to all the seven cribs, and was only just returning from them when the gentlemen came in, and then she made room for the younger beside her on the sofa, saying, “Now, Alick, I do so want to hear about poor, dear little Bessie;” and they began so low and confidentially, that Rachel wondered if her alarms wore to be transfered from the bearded colonel to the dapper boy, or if, in very truth, she must deem poor Fanny a general coquette.  Besides, a man must be contemptible who wore gloves at so small a party, when she did not.

She had been whiling away the time of Fanny’s absence by looking over the books on the table, and she did not regard the present company sufficiently to desist on their account.  Colonel Keith began to turn over some numbers of the “Traveller” that lay near him, and presently looked up, and said, “Do you know who is the writer of this?”