"Now G.o.d--bless--my soul!" exclaimed the Major.

"'Tis to be hoped so, sir," said the apparition gravely, "you were swearing, I think?"

The Major flushed.

"Young woman----" he began.

"Ancient man!"

"Madam!"

"Sir!"

The Major stood silent awhile, staring up into the grave blue eyes above the wall.

"Pray," said he at last, "why do you steal my cherries?"

"To speak truth, sir, because I am so extreme fond of cherries."

Here Sergeant Tring gurgled, choked, coughed and finding the Major's eye upon him immediately came to attention, very stiff in the back and red in the face.

The Major stroked his clean-shaven chin and eyed him askance.

"Sergeant, you may--er--go," said he; whereat the Sergeant saluted, wheeled sharply and marched swiftly away.

"And pray," questioned the Major again, "who might you be?"

"A maid, sir."

"Hum!" said he, "and what would your mistress say if she knew you habitually stole and ate my cherries?"

"My mistress?" The grave blue eyes opened wider.

"Aye," nodded the Major, "the fine London lady. You are her maid, I take it?"

"Indeed, sir, her very own."

"Well, suppose I inform her of your conduct, how then?"

"She'd swear at me, sir."

"Egad, and would she so?"

"O, sir, she often doth and stamps at and reviles and rails at me morning, noon and night!"

"Poor child!" said the Major.

"Truly, sir, I do think she'd do me an injury if she didn't care for me so much."

"Then she cares for you?"

"More than anyone in the world beside! Indeed she loveth me as herself, sir!"

"Women be mysterious creatures!" said the Major, sententiously.

"But you know my lady belike by repute, sir?"

"Not even her name."

"Not know of the Lady Elizabeth Carlyon!" and up went a pair of delicate black brows in scornful amaze.

"I have known but three women in my life, and one of them my mother,"

he answered.

"You sound rather dismal, methinks. But you must have remarked my lady in the Mall, sir?"

"I seldom go to London."

"Now, sir, you sound infinite dismal and plaguily dull!"

"Dull?" repeated the Major thoughtfully, "aye perhaps I am, and 'tis but natural--ancient men often are, I believe."

"And your peruke is all askew!"

"Alack, it generally is!" sighed the Major.

"And you wear a vile old coat!"

"Truly I fear it hath seen its best days!" sighed the Major, glancing down wistfully at the war-worn garment in question.

"O, man," she cried, shaking her head at him, "for love of Heaven don't be so pestilent humble--I despise humility in horse or man!"

"Humble? Am I?" queried the Major and fell to pondering the question, chin in hand.

"Aye, truly," she answered, nodding aggressively, "your humility nauseates me, positively!"

"Child," he answered smiling, "what manner of man would you have?"

"Grandad," she answered, "I would have him tall and strong and brave, but--above all--masterful!"

"In a word, a bl.u.s.tering bully!" he answered gently, grey eyes a-twinkle.

"Aye," she nodded vehemently, "even that, rather than--than a--a----"

"An ancient man, ill-dressed and humble," he suggested and laughed; whereat she frowned and bit her bonnet-string in strong, white teeth, then:

"'Tis a very beast of a coat!" she exclaimed, "stained, spotted, tarnished, tattered and torn!"