"How deliciously quaint!" exclaimed the one her friend had addressed
as Sophronia. "What rural detail!"
"The very word. Quaint--devilish quaint!" Sir Felix agreed.
"We _are_ devilish quaint in these parts."
The Major turned a page:
"'So far as inquiry lifts the curtain over the closing scene, it
was marked by a similar calm forgetfulness of self in the higher
interests of his Sovereign, his Country, the British Race.
If enemies he had, he forgave them. Attending only to his
country's call for volunteers to defend her shores, he followed
it in the least conspicuous manner, and fell; leaving at once an
example and a reproach to those who, living at home in ease,
enjoyed the protection of spirits better conscious of the
destinies and duties of Englishmen.'"
"Gad, and so he did!" Sir Felix exclaimed. "I remember thinking
something of the sort at the time and doubling my subscription."
He yawned. "Shall we go, ladies?" he asked. "I assure you there is
no time to be lost if you wish to see the menagerie."
But when the ladies were in the passage, the Major half-closed the
door, shutting Sir Felix off.
"May I have just one word with you, sir? I will not detain you more
than a moment."
"Eh?" said Sir Felix, and pulled out a shilling. "Is that what
you're after? Well, I'm glad you had the delicacy to let the ladies
pass out first.
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