"Trooper the Marquess of Sydney,
Her Majesty's Bodyguard."
His face brightened as he read; gladly he sent a welcome to his visitor, gave orders that he was not to be disturbed, and in the interim of waiting set all his work aside.
He rose at Lord Sydney's entrance. "Well, old fellow," he spoke heartily, as they shook hands, "is it ten years?"
"Fourteen since our last fight at school. I'm awfully glad to see you, Brand."
"You've forgotten the black eyes I gave you?"
"I'd be sorry to fight again; you're much too strong. But your nose, Brand, you must remember my sign manual, and I was so proud of that nose."
Brand stroked his blunt nose thoughtfully, "Most tender memory!"
Lord Sydney smiled, and as the other led him to a seat—
"We promised to write to each other."
"We were very young," Brand chuckled. "So you went soldiering, I to my trade."