LEAVING the omnibus at Charing Cross, I was hastening along the Strand on my way home, when I ran against a gentleman, who was swaggering along in a handsome, capacious cloak as if all the street belonged to him.
"I beg your pardon," I said, in apology. "I——" And there I broke off to stare, for I thought I recognised him in the gaslight.
"Why! It is Major Carlen!"
"Just so. And it is Charles. How are you, Charles?"
"Have you lately come from Brussels?" I asked, as we shook hands. "And how did you leave mamma and Blanche?"
"They are in Gloucester Place," he answered. "We all came over last Wednesday."
"I wonder they did not let me know it."
"Plenty of time, young man. They will not be going away in a hurry. We are settling down here again. You can come up when you like."
"That will be to-morrow then. Good-night, sir."