"As yet," thought L'Isle, "she has escaped
that." He even thought he could perceive that he had interrupted her
in some occupation, which would be resumed the moment he left her;
that his visit was a parenthesis awkwardly thrust in between, and
breaking the connection of her morning hours.
Lady Mabel expressed some surprise at his being at leisure just at
this time, but added: "I suppose you are yet too weak to burden
yourself with such mere formalities as parades and inspections."
L'Isle was a martinet, and this a military heresy. "Keeping the troops
up to the mark, fit for instant service, is not a matter of form; and
that is the end of parades and inspections. But," added he, smiling,
"I am not surprised at your mistake; for I find, on coming to Elvas,
that many of my brother officers have embraced the same opinion. They
have got tired of these formalities, and dispense with them as often
as they can. But I must not find fault with them, while indulging
myself as an invalid longer than is absolutely necessary. Confinement
and idleness have made me a little lazy."
An air of languor, and the marks of recent suffering, fully excused
what he called his laziness.
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