Her father meanwhile was dreaming he had slain a mouflon, and that its owner insisted on his paying for it, a demand to which he gladly acceded, seeing it was a most curious creature, like a boar, with stag's horns and a pheasant's tail.
"Ellis tells me there's splendid shooting in Corsica," said the colonel, as he sat at breakfast, alone with his daughter.

"If it hadn't been for the distance, I should like to spend a fortnight there." "Well," replied Miss Lydia, "why shouldn't we go to Corsica?
While you are hunting I can sketch--I should love to have that grotto Captain Ellis talked about, where Napoleon used to go and study when he was a child, in my album." It was the first time, probably, that any wish expressed by the colonel had won his daughter's approbation.

Delighted as he was by the unexpected harmony on their opinions, he was nevertheless wise enough to put forward various objections, calculated to sharpen Miss Lydia's welcome whim.

In vain did he dwell on the wildness of the country, and the difficulties of travel there for a lady.

Nothing frightened her; she liked travelling on horseback of all things; she delighted in the idea of bivouacking in the open; she even threatened to go as far as Asia Minor--in short, she found an answer to everything.