'Commander of the garrison,' said the stranger, in reply to Mr Tupman's inquiring look.

Miss Bulder was warmly welcomed by the young Misses Clubber and the greeting between Mrs. Colonel Bulder and Lady Clubber was as friendly as it could possibly be. Colonel Bulder and Sir Thomas Clubber exchanged snuff-boxes, and looked very much like two kings of the town together.

While the aristocracy of the place - the Bulders, and Clubbers, and Snipes - were busily being important at the upper end of the room, the other classes of society were imitating their example elsewhere. The less aristocratic officers of the 97th spent their time talking to the families of the less important officials from the dockyard. The solicitors' wives, and the wine-merchant's wife, were the leaders of another level of society (the brewer's wife was with the Bulders).

Mrs. Tomlinson, from the post-office seemed by mutual consent to have been chosen as the leader of the tradespeople.

One of the most popular people present was a little fat man, with a ring of upright black hair round his head, and an extensive bald area on the top of it. This was Doctor Slammer, surgeon to the 97th. The doctor chatted with everybody, laughed, danced, made jokes, played whist, did everything, and was everywhere.