In the meantime, the War-office combined with fate against the unfortunate lover—a regiment was suddenly quartered in the town. This was really too much. Poor Arthur was haunted by red coats. They lounged through the streets, they rode through shady lanes, they danced in the assembly rooms, they lunched here and they dined there; and when at last night arrived, it was "dreams and not sleep that came into his head." His visions were all of "the scarlet colour." No young lady's head in all the place could run more upon "the officers" than his own. Both the Majors were married—that was something to be thankful for; but the Colonel was single, and younger, and better looking than the generality of Colonels; and the junior officers were an unusually fine set of men—at least so they seemed to Arthur Ralegh. During the first month of their stay, he took them all in their turns. One day it was the fascinating Captain—the next it was the handsome Lieutenant; till it even reached the interesting Ensign.
At last, these flying fears settled into a good earnest fit, which had Captain Delaford for its object. The whole regiment was considered charming enough; but Captain Delaford was the most charming of all. We Londoners know nothing of hearts carried by beat of drum. "The officers" conveys no meaning to our ear. We have an idea that the guards are very gentle manlike, but the military go for nothing in the great system of London dissipation. A young lady, even in Knightsbridge, would stare to be asked "If the barracks did not make the neighbourhood very gay?" It would be something like the fair damsel at St Helena asking "if England was not exceedingly dull after the fleet sailed?" But in a country town a regiment is a very grand affair indeed! Parties are made for and by the officers; they light up a ball, and the young ladies feel that it is an opportunity for attachments happy and unhappy; and, as Mr Bennet in 'Pride and Prejudice' justly observed, "next to being engaged, it is something to be crossed in love." Edith Trevanion liked the increased gaiety, she liked too the admiration and the attention. But her heart was irrevocably gone, and the very thought of change never came into her head.
