“One can’t be an officer in a crack cavalry regiment with only five hundred a year beyond his pay, Miss Briskett. It can’t be done. There wasn’t one of my subs, who had less than eight hundred.”
“Don’t you get any pay at all in your army then?”
“Certainly; about enough to pay the mess bills, and perhaps the changes of kit. The uniform costs several hundreds to start with, and those fools at the War Office are everlastingly ordering senseless alterations.”
“Yes; but—I don’t understand! If the pay is enough for your keep, why do you need such a heap more to get along? Where does all the expense come in?”
Guest knitted his brows in momentary embarrassment.
“Well, of course, there are certain things that a man must do to live up to his position. He must entertain; he must hunt; he must play polo. It comes cheaper to him than ordinary men, for he has the use of the regimental stables; but still, things run up. It’s astonishing how they do run up! There are a hundred things that are expected of him, and there’s no getting away from them.”
“Isn’t he expected first thing of all to serve his country?”
“That is, of course!” Guest raised his head proudly. “I have already explained that I had served her.”
“Wouldn’t they let you go on then, because you couldn’t cut a dash?”
“Let me! There wasn’t a man in the mess who didn’t beg me to stay on! The Duke sent for me, and argued for half an hour. He promised me a staff appointment. He said some awfully decent things about my past services. I was glad of that... I said, ‘It’s no good, sir, I can’t face the prospect of being Colonel of the regiment, and not being able to afford as much as my own subs.’ We went over it again and again, and he lost his temper at last and called me a fool, but I stuck to it—”