Van Bummel, a
good-looking woman of pleasant dimensions,--to Miss Bellona Van Bummel, who
evidently thought me beneath her notice,--and to the Reverend Moses Wether,
whose mild face, white cravat, and straight-cut collar proclaimed him. As I
came in, his Reverence attempted to slip meekly out, but was stopped
energetically by the General.
"How is this? Mr. Wether, you know you cannot leave, Sir."
"But, my dear General, I only dropped in for a few moments; and really I
have so much to do!"
"I am sorry, Sir," rejoined the General, sternly, "but you cannot be
excused. You accepted the position of Chaplain to the Regiment. You
neglected to attend the last two reviews. You were condemned by a Court
Martial, over which I presided, to twenty-four hours' arrest, which you
must now submit to."
"But, my dear General," feebly expostulated the man of prayer, "you know I
thought the nomination a mere pleasantry; I had no idea you were serious,
or I should never have listened to the proposition."
"Can't help that, Sir. You accepted the commission, you neglected your
duty, and you must take the consequences."
Just then, as the poor perplexed parson was about to make another attempt
for liberty, a side-door swung open; a well-built, comely servant-girl,
dressed like Jenny Lind in the "Fille du Regiment," appeared. Bringing the
back of her hand to her forehead, she said,--
"General, dinner is ready."
Van Bummel muttered something about "joining our mess," and led the way to
the banqueting-hall.
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