Moore--

"Thus should woman's heart and looks,
At noon be cold as winter brooks,
Nor kindle till the night returning
Brings their genial hour for burning."

At any rate, he actually went to the barracks with the Colonel, "as if he
couldn't get enough of that," thought Cecil, "when he is not on leave."

But after severe reflections on herself for caring a straw about it,
Cecil had forgiven him, and a deceitful sunbeam peeped through in the
prospect of meeting at luncheon, only to be again overcast, as the
Colonel returned without the recreant Bertie.

This second reverse overthrew her afternoon arrangements, for she had
reckoned on Du Meresq's escort to the Rink. This being Saturday, Bluebell
always went home till the following day, and Mrs. Rolleston would not be
available even for a drive, for she hated sleighing, and was looking
forward to writing her English letters in the cozy drawing-room, and
sociably imbibing afternoon tea with any visitors hardy enough to face
the bitter northwester, happily so rare a visitant in that sufficiently
inclement climate.

But Cecil preferred facing any weather to her own thoughts, and,
encountering three Astrakhan-jacketed and fur-capped sisters under convoy
of Miss Prosody, was carried off by them to enliven their dismal
constitutional.

In the meantime, Captain Du Meresq, having lunched at the barracks, drove