From her he demanded to know who this Mr. Lovel might be, whom he found so very much at home in a circle in which he had looked forward to shining alone.
Mary MacIntyre answered sensibly that, as to who he was, her brother had better ask his uncle, who was in the habit of inviting to his house such company as pleased him; adding that, so far as she knew, Mr. Lovel was a very quiet and gentlemanly young man.
Far from being satisfied, however, from that moment Captain MacIntyre, with the instinct of a dog that returns home to find a stranger making free with his bone and kennel, set himself almost openly to provoke Lovel. When by chance the latter was called on by the Antiquary to state whether or not he had been present at a certain battle abroad, MacIntyre, with an accent of irony, asked the number of his regiment. And when that had been told him, he replied that he knew the regiment very well, but that he could not remember Mr. Lovel as an officer in it.
Whereupon, blushing quickly, Mr. Lovel informed Captain MacIntyre that he had served the last campaign on the staff of General Sir Blank Blank.
"Indeed," said MacIntyre, yet more insolently, "that is still more remarkable. I have had an opportunity of knowing the names of all the officers who have held such a situation, and I cannot recollect that of Lovel among them."
Lovel took out of his pocket-book a letter, from which he removed the envelope before handing it to his adversary.
"In all probability you know the General's hand," he said, "though I own I ought not to show such exaggerated expressions of thanks for my very slight services."
Captain MacIntyre, glancing his eye over it, could not deny that it was in the General's hand, but drily observed, as he returned it, that the address was wanting.
"The address, Captain MacIntyre," answered Lovel, in the same tone, "shall be at your service whenever you choose to inquire for it."
