Have you heard Lady Sybil's marching-song yet?"
"No."
"Well, I think it is charming--really charming. Rockminster was dining
with the officers of the Coldstream Guards the other evening, and he
promised to send a copy to the bandmaster as soon as it is published.
But Sybil wants more than that, of course; she wants to see whether the
commander-in-chief wouldn't recommend it, so that it could be taken up
by all the regiments. Wouldn't that be splendid?--to think that Sybil
should provide a marching-song for the whole British army!"
"Yes, indeed," said he, with great politeness. "And why shouldn't the
commander-in-chief recommend it? A marching-song is as important as a
new button. But I must get a look at the music, if we are all to join in
the chorus."
The dinner was not long-protracted, for there was to be a concert during
the evening; and, indeed, people began to arrive early--strolling
through the galleries, looking at the pictures, or talking together in
small groups. It was during this promiscuous assembling that Octavius
Quirk got hold of Lionel, and, with savage disgust, drew his attention
to a hostler-looking person who had just come into the room.
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