“You did; and I was very sorry that I was out when you called; but mind, you must come and dine with me some day.”
“Thank you, general, I shall do myself the honour.”
“Now, Mrs. Seacole, give us another bottle of champagne.”
“Mrs. Seacole,” I exclaimed; “is that lady the celebrated Mrs. Seacole?”
“Of course,” said the general.
She then came forth from her bivouac cellar, with two bottles in her hands, exclaiming, “I shall stand mine, and no mistake.”
We all declared it would never do for a lady to stand treat in the Crimea.
“Lord bless you, Monsieur Soyer,” said the lady, “don’t you know me?”
“Yes, I do now, my dear madam.”
“Well, all those fine fellows you see here are my Jamaica sons—are you not?” said she, opening the champagne, and addressing the general.