“Come now!  Would any of those poor creatures have been the better for your knowing

“How many notes a sackbut has,
Or whether shawms have strings,”

or the Greek particles, which I believe were what sacked you?”

“They would have been the better if I had ever learnt to think what men’s souls are, or my own either,” said Herbert, with a heavy sigh.

“Ah! well, you have had a sharp campaign,” said Phil; “but you’ll soon get the better of it when you are at Nice with the old folks.  Jolly place—­lots of nice girls—­something always going on.  I’ll try and get leave to take you out; but you’ll cut us all out!  Ladies won’t look at a fellow when there’s an interesting young parson to the fore.”

Herbert made an action of negation, and his sister said—­

“The doctors say Nice will not do after such an illness as this.  Papa asked the doctor there, and he said he could not advise it.”

“Indeed!  Then I’ll tell you what, Herbs, you shall come into lodgings at York, and I’ll look after you there.  You shall ride Pimento, and dine at the mess.”

“Thank you, Phil,” said Herbert, to whom a few months ago this proposal would have been most seducing, “but I am going home, and that’s all the change I shall want.”

“Home!  Yes, Ellen is getting ready for you.  Not your room—­oh, no! but the state bedroom!  When will you come?  My leave is only till Tuesday.”

“Oh!  I don’t know how to think of the drive,” sighed Herbert wearily.

“We must wait for a fine day, when he feels strong enough,” said Jenny.

“All right,” said Phil; “but ten days or a fortnight there will be quite enough, and then you’ll come.  There are some friends of yours, that only looked at me, I can tell you, for the sake of your name—­eh, Master Herbs?”

Herbert did not rise to the bait; but Jenny said, “The Miss Strangeways?”

“Yes.  Wouldn’t he be flattered to hear of the stunning excitement when they heard of Captain Bowater, and how the old lady, their mother, talked by the yard about him?  You’ll get a welcome indeed when you come, old fellow.  When shall it be?”

“No, thank you, Phil,” said Herbert, gravely.  “I shall come back here as soon as I am well enough.  But there is one thing I wish you would do for me.”

“Well, what?  I’ll speak about having any horse you please taken up for you to ride; I came over on Brown Ben, but he would shake you too much.”

“No, no, it’s about a young fellow.  If you could take him back to York to enlist—­”

“My dear Herbert, I ain’t a recruiting-sergeant.”

“No, but it might be the saving of him,” said Herbert, raising himself and speaking with more animation.  “It is Harry Hornblower.”

“Why, that’s the chap that bagged your athletic prizes!  Whew!  Rather strong, ain’t it, Joan!”

“He did no such thing,” said Herbert, rather petulantly; “never dreamt of it.  He only was rather a fool in talking of them—­ vaunting of me, I believe, as not such a bad fellow for a parson; so his friends got out of him where to find them.  But they knew better than to take him with them.  Tell him, Jenny; he won’t believe me.”