The Star-Gazers. Fenn George Manville

      The major was in his shirt-sleeves, apparently turning himself into a jack-in-the-box, for he was standing in an old bullock trunk, one which had journeyed with him pretty well all over India; and as Sir John entered the room sharply, and closed the door behind him, the major started up, looking fiercely and angrily at the intruder.

      “Oh, you’re packing, then?” said Sir John, in the most uncompromising tone.

      “Yes, sir, I am packing,” said the major, getting out of the trunk, and slamming down the lid; “and I think, sir, that I might be permitted to do that in peace and quietness.”

      “Peace? Yes, of course you may,” said Sir John, sharply, “only you will make it war.”

      “I was not aware,” said the major, “that it was necessary for me to lock my door – I beg your pardon – your door. And now, may I ask the object of this intrusion? If it is to resume the quarrel, you may spare yourself the pains.”

      “Indeed!” said Sir John shortly.

      “Well,” continued the major, “why have you come?”

      “You are going, then?”

      “Of course I am, sir.”

      “Well, I came to tell you I’m very glad of it,” cried Sir John, clapping his brother on the shoulder; and then – “I say, Jem, I wish I hadn’t such a peppery temper.”