“‘Always yours,
“‘Pat.’”
I had scarcely sealed my billet when love’s messenger announced herself. The presence of Captain O’Boyle precluded any converse between me and the spider-brusher; and after receiving her despatch, Sibby Callaghan disappeared.
It was at once decided that I should levant that very evening, leaving the detachment to the care of the subalterns, whom it was arranged I should join in Cork. Captain O’Boyle discharged my accounts in town; my servant packed my traps; and I had stepped down to take a little air in the barrack-yard, when once more Sibby Callaghan presented herself. She placed a billet in my hand; I squeezed hers in return—whispered I would send an answer when evening parade was over—and broke the seal.
“My dearest Pat,
“Have I misunderstood you? Then is my peace of mind gone for ever! Oh no—I won’t believe it. You would not win a virgin heart, and throw it idly from you! Rest assured, idol of my soul! that there is no bliss in life comparable to wedded happiness.
“Yours, and yours only,
“‘Flora.’”
I wrote an immediate reply:—
“My dearest Flo,