"He is so," said Hatton, "for Lady Mabel's smiles belong to the brigade."
"And the light dragoons quartered with it," interjected Goring. "But here he is, basking in the sunshine, and keeping us shivering in the shade, when he ought to be on the road to Alcantara. Sir Rowland is expecting him. Major Conway seemed quite anxious that he should be there betimes in the morning, and, doubtless, had some good reason for it.
"Why do you not give him a hint?" asked Hatton, "perhaps he has forgotten it."
"He is your colonel, and the hint would come better from you."
"Thank you," said Hatton. "But in our regiment, it is contrary to the etiquette to hint to the colonel that he is neglecting his duty."
"But it seems," said Goring, "that the rule does not apply to the brigade. The major tells me that L'Isle has freely censured my lord's remissness, and urged him to enforce more stringent discipline."
"How did my lord take it?"
"Like a slap in the face," answered Goring. "At least he treated it as a great piece of presumption, and L'Isle was thoroughly angered at the rough answer he got. Indeed, Conway thinks that there is nothing but ill blood between them."
"That does not look much like it," said Hatton, glancing at Lady Mabel, with L'Isle at her elbow.
"Let us go and beat about the bushes; we may start some thing worth chasing!"