"I came to bring you news, sir, but seeing you so—ah—particularly engaged I let it wait."
"What news, lad—ha?"
"I am become a soldier, sir. I have secured a commission in His Majesty's Third Regiment of Foot."
"Ha, the old regiment—dooce take me, Viscount, but I rejoice to hear it!" exclaimed the Colonel and leapt to his feet with hand outstretched. "The 'Third' is the one and only—eh, Jack? And hath the noblest and highest traditions, yet—high and noble though they be, I'm bold to say you'll do 'em credit and be worthy of 'em, Viscount Tom—eh, man Jack?"
"Nay sir," answered the Viscount, clasping the proffered hand, "if I can but emulate in some small way nunky's and your achievements I shall be proud indeed."
"Whose company are ya' 'tached to—and when?"
"Ogilvie's sir—a fortnight hence."
"Begad, but Ogilvie's hath been cast for foreign service."
"'Tis why I chose it, sir."
"Aha!" exclaimed the Colonel, "Oho! Another case o' the heart, I judge. There was young Denholm talking but yesterday about a red coat, death and glory, or bleaching his dead bones on some foreign shore." The Viscount smiled serenely: