"Captain Pond has mounted his hobby, I see," said the pretty Mayoress, coming forward at the conclusion of this harangue. "But you should hear my husband, sir, on the health-giving properties of Looe's climate."
Colonel Taubmann bowed gallantly. "Madam, I have no need. Your own cheeks bear a more eloquent testimony to it, I warrant, than any he could compose."
"Well, and so they do, my love," said the Doctor that evening, when she repeated this pretty speech to him. "But I don't understand why you should add that anyone could tell he belonged to the regular service."
"They have a way with them," said the lady musingly, gazing out of window.
"Why, my dear, have I not paid you before now a score of compliments as neat?"
"Now don't be huffed, darling!—of course you have. But, you see, it came as pat with him as if he had known me all my life: and I'll engage that he has another as pat for the next woman he meets."
"I don't doubt it," agreed her spouse: "and if that's what you admire, perhaps you would like me to compliment and even kiss every pretty girl in the place. There's no saying what I can't do if I try."
"Please don't be a goose, dear! I never said a Volunteer wasn't more comfortable to live with. Those professionals are here to-day and gone tomorrow—sometimes even sooner."
"Not to mention," added the Doctor, more than half-seriously, "that life with them is dreadfully insecure."
"Oh! I would never seriously advise a friend of mine to marry a regular soldier. Hector dear, to be left a widow must be terrible!… But you did deserve to be teased, for never saying a word about my tea-party. How do you think it went off? And haven't you a syllable of praise for the way I had polished the best urn? Why, you might have seen your face in it!"