“Mr. Gronow, Fusilier Guards, remains with the depot.
“Captain Mortimer, 1st Dragoons, appointed aide-de-camp to the general commanding the cavalry brigade.
“Mr. Sparks,—where is Mr. Sparks? Mr. Sparks absent from parade; make a note of it.
“Mr. O’Malley, 14th Light Dragoons. Mr. O’Malley,—oh, I remember! I have received a letter from Sir George Dashwood concerning you. You will hold yourself in readiness to march. Your friends desire that before you may obtain any staff appointment, you should have the opportunity of seeing some service. Am I to understand such is your wish?”
“Most certainly.”
“May I have the pleasure of your company at dinner to-day?”
“I regret that I have already accepted an invitation to dine with Major Monsoon.”
“With Major Monsoon? Ah, indeed! Perhaps it might be as well I should mention,—but no matter. I wish you good-morning.”
So saying, the little colonel rode off, leaving me to suppose that my dinner engagement had not raised me in his estimation, though why, I could not exactly determine.