“My dear Lorrequer,” ("dear Lorrequer!” dear me, thought I; cool certainly, from one I have ever regarded as an open enemy)—­“My dear Lorrequer, I have just accidentally heard of your arrival here, and hasten to inform you, that, as it may not be impossible your reasons for so abruptly leaving your detachment are known to me, I shall not visit your breach of discipline very heavily.  My old and worthy friend, Lord Callonby, who passed through here yesterday, has so warmly interested himself in your behalf, that I feel disposed to do all in my power to serve you; independently of my desire to do so on your own account.  Come over here, then, as soon as possible, and let us talk over your plans together.

                    “Believe me, most truly yours,
                                             “Henry Carden. 
     “Barracks, 10 o’clock.”

However mysterious and difficult to unravel, have been some of the circumstances narrated in these “Confessions,” I do not scruple to avow that the preceding letter was to me by far the most inexplicable piece of fortune I had hitherto met with.  That Lord Callonby should have converted one whom I believed an implacable foe, into a most obliging friend, was intelligible enough, seeing that his lordship had through life been the patron of the colonel; but why he had so done, and what communications he could possibly have made with regard to me, that Colonel Carden should speak of “my plans” and proffer assistance in them was a perfect riddle; and the only solution, one so ridiculously flattering that I dared not think of it.  I read and re-read the note; misplaced the stops; canvassed every expression; did all to detect a meaning different from the obvious one, fearful of a self-deception where so much was at stake.  Yet there it stood forth, a plain straightforward proffer of services, for some object evidently known to the writer; and my only conclusion, from all, was this, that “my Lord Callonby was the gem of his order, and had a most remarkable talent for selecting a son-in-law.”

I fell into a deep reverie upon my past life, and the prospects which I now felt were opening before me.  Nothing seemed extravagant to hopes so well founded—­to expectations so brilliant—­and, in my mind’s eye, I beheld myself at one moment leading my young and beautiful bride through the crowded salons of Devonshire House; and, at the next, I was contemplating the excellence and perfection of my stud arrangements at Melton, for I resolved not to give up hunting.  While in this pleasurable exercise of my fancy, I was removing from before me some of the breakfast equipage, or, as I then believed it, breaking the trees into better groups upon my lawn, I was once more brought to the world and its dull reality, by the following passage which my eye fell upon in the newspaper before me—­“We understand that the 4_th are daily expecting the route for Cork, from whence they are to sail, early in the