Mother, you will be pleased then?"
"Shall I not, my dear, dear Jockey! I don't think you could have a
better chief. I have always heard that Sir Philip was such a good
man."
"So Mrs. Evelyn said. She was sure you would be satisfied. You
can't think how kind they were, making the affair quite their own,"
said Jock, with a little colour in his face. "They absolutely think
it would be wrong to give up the service."
"Yes; Mrs. Evelyn wrote to me that you ought not to be thrown away.
It was very kind and dear, but with a little of the aristocratic
notion that the army is the only profession in the world. I can't
help it; I can't think your father's profession unworthy of his son."
"She didn't say so!"
"No, but I understood it. Perhaps I am touchy; I don't think I am
ungrateful. They have always made you like one of themselves."
"Yes, so much that I don't like to run counter to their wishes when
they have taken such pains. Besides, there are things that can be
thought of, even by a poor man, as a soldier, which can't in the
other line."
This speech, made with bent head, rising colour, and hand playing
with his mother's fan, gave her, all unwittingly on his part, a keen
sense that her Jock was indeed passing from her, but she said nothing
to damp his spirits, and threw herself heartily into his plans,
announcing them to his uncle with genuine exultation.
Pages:
585
586
587
588
589
590
591
592
593
594
595
596
597
598
599
600
601
602
603
604
605
606
607
608
609