“I—I think I ought to be going on, Mr Beveridge.”
That experienced diplomatist perceived that it was necessary to further embellish himself.
“Are you fond of soldiers?” he asked, abruptly.
“I beg your pardon?” she said in considerable bewilderment.
“Does a red coat, a medal, and a brass band appeal to you? Are you apt to be interested in her Majesty’s army?”
“I generally like soldiers,” she admitted, still much surprised at the turn the conversation had taken.
“Then I was a soldier.”
“But—really?”
“I held a commission in one of the crackest cavalry regiments,” he began dramatically, and yet with a great air of sincerity. “I was considered one of the most promising officers in the mess. It nearly broke my heart to leave the service.”
He turned away his head. Lady Alicia was visibly affected.