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Scott, John Reed, 1869-

"The Colonel of the Red Huzzars"

I saw him the next afternoon in the Officers'
Club--and our greeting was almost effusive. In fact, if anything were
required to prove how intensely we despised each other, this
demonstrative cordiality supplied it. It was so hollow it fairly
resounded with derision.
"I'll ride over to Headquarters with you," he said.
"I'm walking," I answered.
"Good, I'll walk, too," he replied.
So, we set out--the orderly following with the Duke's horse.
"When did you come in?" I asked--knowing perfectly well the very hour
of his arrival.
"Last night, on the Express from the North," he answered--knowing that
I already knew it.
"Had a good time, of course?" I remarked.
"Delightful--we wished for you."
"It's astonishing how kind you all are to the stranger," I said.
He shot a quick glance at me.
"We don't regard you as a stranger, my dear cousin," he protested.
"I believe you," said I. "Judged by the way His Majesty and the
Princess, and you have treated me, the heir of Hugo might never have
lived beyond the Kingdom."
This brought another look.
"The Dalbergs don't do things by halves," he answered.
"So I have noticed, cousin. I only trust I can live up to it.


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