Christmas was close upon them.  It would be a bright and happy season for mother and son, spent together after their long separation.  Upon the eve of that day Kate came eagerly in with a large official letter in her hand, addressed to the soldier.  It was a moment of excitement whilst he opened it, for it was known that he had been corresponding latterly with several ministers respecting the proposed expedition against Quebec, and all knew how dear to his heart was the fulfilment of that daring scheme.

As he read the document his cheek flushed.  He sat up more erect in his chair, and there came into his face a look which his soldiers well knew.  It was always to be seen there when he led them into battle.

“Mother,” he said very quietly, “Mr. Pitt has chosen me to command the expedition now fitting out against Quebec.”

Mrs. Wolfe gave a little gasp, the tears springing to her eyes; but over Kate’s face there spread a deep, beautiful flush, and she grasped the young man by the hand, exclaiming: 

“O Cousin James, how glad I am!  What a splendid victory it will be!”

“If it be won!” he said, looking up at her with kindling eyes.  “But there is always an ‘if’ in the case.”

“There will be none when you are in command,” answered Kate, with a ring of proud assurance in her voice.  “Had you been commander of the Louisbourg expedition, Quebec would have been ours by now.”

Their eyes met.  In hers he read unbounded admiration and faith.  It thrilled him strangely.  It brought a look of new purpose into his face.  He held her hand, and she left it lying in his clasp.  He was holding it still when he turned to his mother.

“Are you not glad, mother mine?” he asked gently.

“Oh yes, my son—­glad and proud of the honour done you, of the appreciation shown of your worth and service.  But how will you be able to undergo all that fatigue, and the perils and sufferings of another voyage?  That is what goes to my heart.  You are so little fit for it all!”

“I have found that a man can always be fit for his duty,” said Wolfe gravely.  “Is not that so, Kate?”

“With you it is,” she answered, with another of her wonderful glances; and the mother, watching the faces of the pair, rose from her seat and crept from the room.  Her heart was at once glad and sorrowful, proud and heavy; she felt that she must ease it with a little weeping before she could talk of this great thing with the spirit her son would look to find in her.

Wolfe and Kate were left alone together.  He got possession of her other hand.  She was standing before him still, a beautiful bloom upon her face, her eyes shining like stars.

“You are pleased with all this, my Kate?” he asked; and he let the last words escape him unconsciously.

“Pleased that your country should do you this great honour?  Of course I am pleased.  You have deserved it at her hands; yet men do not always get their deserts in this world.”