"It is about to be served." "You are very kind, Sir Terence." They descended, to find luncheon served already in the open under the trellis vine, and the party consisted of Lady O'Moy, Miss Armytage, Captain Tremayne, Major Carruthers, and Count Samoval, of whose presence this was the adjutant's first intimation.
As a matter of fact the Count had been at Monsanto for the past hour, the first half of which he had spent most agreeably on the terrace with the ladies.

He had spoken so eulogistically of the genius of Lord Wellington and the valour of the British soldier, and, particularly-of the Irish soldier, that even Sylvia's instinctive distrust and dislike of him had been lulled a little for the moment.
"And they must prevail," he had exclaimed in a glow of enthusiasm, his dark eyes flashing.

"It is inconceivable that they should ever yield to the French, although the odds of numbers may lie so heavily against them." "Are the odds of numbers so heavy ?" said Lady O'Moy in surprise, opening wide those almost childish eyes of hers.
"Alas! anything from three to five to one.

Ah, but why should we despond on that account ?" And his voice vibrated with renewed confidence.

"The country is a difficult one, easy to defend, and Lord Wellington's genius will have made the best of it.