Her reminiscences succeeded in breaking up the tete-a-tete, and, lo! the wicked little dominant spirit who pulled the wires had indirectly influenced every one in the room.  Harry, mesmerized by eye artillery, had dropped into confidential converse with Kate; Geraldine was suffering a serrement de coeur at being so lightly left; and the Colonel, his occupation gone, was reduced to twisting those tried friends in perplexity—­his pendulous whiskers and moustache.

“How silly a hairy man looks drinking tea,” Kate had whispered; “like a thirsty rat dipping its whiskers and tail in!”

A rather pleased expression pervaded Harry’s countenance, which was as smooth as a billiard-ball.  His cousin soon had him beautifully in hand, and then extorted a promise to do the thing he hated most, i.e., to escort her out hunting the following Friday.  She hadn’t the smallest intention of remaining with him after they found.  Then she would ride with her Colonel, who acquitted himself more creditably in a hunting-field; but, as she was not allowed to start with him alone, it was necessary to impress Harry into her service.

“That’s all settled,” cried she, rising.  “Remember, honour bright!  And now go and talk to dear Geraldine, who looks as if she were going to cry.”  For Kate had heard Lord Bromley’s step in the passage.  He came in with Mr. Hobart, who had just returned from London.  “Have you heard the news?” said the latter; “war is declared; the army, Guards and all, are ordered to the East, and the fleet is to go to the Baltic.”

How these few words went straight to their mark, contrasting with the frivolities that had amused them all day!  It had come at last.  Chances of distinction, redemption from stagnation, the much-coveted active service.  They were all brave men in that house—­soldiers or sailors, most of them; but the “bitter sweet first shock” and rush of new ideas kept them, at first, rather pale and silent.

After dinner though, when the wine had circulated and the first strangeness worn off, chaff and jest flew lightly about, for a general excitement pervaded the whole party.

“Shall you order those new clothes now Dashwood, you had so many patterns for this morning?”

“No! they would be out of fashion, perhaps, when we return.  I was just going to order a new tunic, too!  That sinful extravagance may be cut off.”

Harry, who, perhaps, had most cause for anxious thoughts, was foremost in the fun.  If his spirits were forced, that was his own affair; and, to avoid Kate’s over-keen eyes, he (the last thing he ought to have done) devoted himself the whole evening to the more restful society of Geraldine.

Pre-occupied as he was, he began to be sensible of a change in her manner—­she seemed struggling with some indefinable agitation; her voice shook, and sounded strange when she spoke.