“I am so glad to see you, Cousin James.  I am going to call you that because I call your mother Aunt, and she has given me leave to do so.  I know so much about you from your letters.  I have copied every one of them to send to your father, for Aunt will not part with the originals even for him!  I know all about Louisbourg, and the batteries, and the ships, and the big guns.  Oh, I think if I were a man I could become an officer at once, and command a great campaign like that one!  We had such rejoicings here when the news came! it was like new life to us.  We had heard of that dreadful defeat at Ticonderoga, and it seemed as though England was never to rise from the dust of humiliation.  It was openly said that Louisbourg would never fall; that it was as impregnable as Quebec.  Oh, there was such lugubrious talk!  And then came the news of the victory, and of Brigadier Wolfe’s valiant and doughty deeds.  You may guess how your mother’s eyes shone at that!  And all England echoed to the sound of your name!”

“A name more formidable in sound than in reality,” spoke Wolfe, laughing, but cheered and pleased by the sincere and pretty enthusiasm of the winning girl.  “When those who have kindly admired me from the distance come to inspect me in person, what a shock they will receive!  We shall have to palm Julian here off as the right man; he will play the part with much more dignity and grace.”

Kate looked from one to the other laughing.

“What do you expect me to say to that?  Lieutenant Dautray looks every inch a soldier; but I think, Cousin James, that you have the air of the man born to command.”

“In spite of my cropped red head and lanky limbs?  I am proud of the compliment paid me.”

Wolfe was certainly rather taken aback to find himself a man of so much mark when he showed himself in Bath.  He had quite an ovation when first he appeared at the Pump Room; and although he was in a measure accustomed to lead a public life, and to be the object of attention and even admiration, he shrank from having this carried into his private life, and was happiest at home with his mother and friend, and with bright Kate Lowther, with whom he soon became wonderfully intimate.

The girl’s sincere affection for his frail and delicate mother would in any case have won his heart; but there was something exceedingly attractive in her whole personality and in her eager interest in his past career and in the fortunes of the war.  She would sit for hours beside him whilst he related to his mother the incidents of the campaign, and her questions and comments showed a quick intelligence and ready sympathy that were a never-failing source of interest to him.

Her strength and vitality were refreshing to one who was himself almost always weak and suffering.  He would watch her at play with the dogs in the garden, or up and down the staircase, and delight in the grace and vigour of her movements.  She would come in from her walks and rides with a glow upon her face and a light in her eyes, and sitting down beside him would relate all that had befallen her since her departure an hour or two before—­telling everything in so racy and lively a fashion that it became the chiefest pleasure of Wolfe’s life to lie and look at her and listen to her conversation.