Ted laughed, and most rudely winked.

"About as bad as your own, I guess, Mrs. Major Russell."

Ted walked round from table to table reading the cards and asking who was who.

"Sir Arthur Fletcher," he read out, halting before one of the presents.

"That's jolly nice of him!"

"I see Charlie Dorricot's sent nothing yet?" he added. "He's due to-night, isn't he?"

"Yes, I expect to make his acquaintance shortly."

"Ripping good chap, Charlie! You'll like him.

"He's very anxious to inspect you," the young subaltern continued. "He did all he could to draw Jim out about you, but it was no go--Jim just gazed amiably upon him. Then he drew a fancy picture of you."

"Who did? Jim?"

"Don't jeer! You know who I mean. He also offered bribes to read your letters--precious small bribes, though! But nothing could make Jim wrathy when he was reading the epistles of Ethel."

"You helped him, I suppose?"

"Helped Jim--to read them? Who's mixed with the personal pronouns now?"

"From your account of your cousin," Ethel observed, disdaining to answer the gibes, "I think it very doubtful that I shall like him. He appears to have been--well--impertinent."

"Regular impudent beggar he is! I knew you'd think so; that's why I told you. Never mind, Ethel, you may be sure of this, that he'll like you.

Besides, I stuck up for you, as Jim wouldn't."

"I am indeed grateful, Lieutenant Russell."

"You do look nice when you laugh, Ethel. Ah! here they are, I can hear Charlie's voice."

They went down to greet the new-comers.

"I seem to know you quite well already, Captain Dorricot," Ethel remarked as they were introduced.

"I'm afraid I can hardly say that I know you at all," Charlie replied, "as Jim would never venture on a description, however greatly I encouraged him, feeling, no doubt, his inability to do the subject justice."

"That's really rather nice, you know," Ted commented, with a grave air of abstraction; and the girl blushed becomingly.

An awkward pause ensued. Then four people spoke together. Three stopped respectfully.

"Can you guess, Jim, what Ted has given us for a present?"

"That's a hint for you, Charlie. Open your packages at once. I am about to marry a most sordid little woman, whose absorbing thought is: 'Presents, and how to obtain them'."

"Sir, you speak that which is not true. Look at this!"

"Whew! You've been looting, young man. Where?"

"Not at all--present--Lucknow--Gurkhas. By the way, Charlie, did you know that young Roberts, your school-fellow, won the V.C.? Won it twice over, in fact--I saw him."

"Well done, D.A.Q.M.G.! That young man will make his mark in the world.

He's a man that understands men--and things."

Ethel then related Ted's story of the jewels and the bargain made, and Charlie presented his gifts, a pair of paintings brought back with him from England two months before. To everyone's surprise he next dragged out a pair of silver-mounted kukris, Goria Thapa's present to Major Russell, in memory of their father's friendship.

Charlie and Ted returned to Jim's quarters, leaving the lovers half an hour of solitude.

"My stars, Ted, that's a pretty girl!" observed the former.

"Isn't she stunning? She's no end fun either, though she looks so demure."

"Jim has displayed unusual discrimination, I must say."

The day, by custom termed "auspicious"--though why the bridegroom cannot tell--came round at last. Major Russell appeared as joyous as could reasonably be expected--and no more. Whilst awaiting the bride's appearance Captain Dorricot, as best man, apparently considered his a most gladsome task. Why does "a best man" consider it necessary to be ribald?

"Major Russell," he whispered, "are you or are you not going to hold yourself straight? Think of me! You're disgracing me before all these people. Don't look so cheap, man; you'll get used to it!

"Now remember my advice and start from to-day as master; let her see that you won't be trodden upon."

"Oh, don't be an idiot!"

"Bless us, he thinks, poor fellow, that it'll be rather nice to be trodden upon by her! Quick! She's coming! Take your eyes from the roof and try to look as though you'd been here before and could do it on your head."

Good as the advice was it passed unheeded, for all eyes were now turned towards the church porch as Ethel Woodburn entered--charmingly sweet, and shyly happy.

The ceremony over, our friend Ted forgot his new-born dignity and became a boy again, and a perfectly irrepressible one, until Jim and his dainty wife had driven away in the direction of the everlasting hills.

Then came the reaction of depression that must inevitably attend the happiest and best-suited marriages.

"Poor old colonel seems cut-up!" said Charlie, as he and Spencer and Ted lounged in the veranda some hours later gazing at the spangled velvet of the sky.

"No wonder," mused Spencer. "He's left alone now, poor fellow! It's hardly a joyful occasion for him. Have a cheroot, Russell?"

"No, thanks!" Ted replied.

"Teddy's a good boy," Dorricot laughed.

"He's quite right," said Spencer. "Nothing to be ashamed of in knowing that one is not old enough to have stopped growing."

"She's a pretty girl!" Dorricot observed thoughtfully after a pause.

"Hope I may do as well as Jim when my time comes."