the table examining the ornaments.

"You may say so! there are not many of Her Majesty's garrisons that
I have not had experience of, except my native country that I wasn't
born in. It was very mean of them never once to send us to
Ireland."

"Where were you born?" said Cecil, neither of the two catching at
the bull which perhaps Rosamond had allowed to escape by way of
trying them.

"At Plymouth. Dick and I were both born at Plymouth, and Maurice at
Scutari; then we were in the West Indies; the next two were born all
up and down in Jamaica and all the rest of the Islands--Tom and
Terry--dear boys, I've got the charge of them now they are left at
school. Three more are Canadians; and little Nora is the only
Irish-born one amongst us."

"I thought you said you had never been in Ireland."

"Never quartered there, but on visits at Rathforlane," said
Rosamond. "Our ten years at home we have been up and down the
world, till at last you see I've ended where I began--at Plymouth."

"Oh, what a lovely Florentine mosaic!" exclaimed Cecil, who had
taken but slight interest in this itinerary. "It is just like a
weight at Dunstone." Then opening a miniature-case, "Who is this--
Mrs. Poynsett when she was young?"

"Most likely," said Rosamond. "It is like her now, and very like