“I have had a narrow shave of it,” James said; “but, thank God, I am as well now as ever!”

As he spoke, he opened the door of the study, and entered.  The squire, who was reading the paper, looked up, and leapt to his feet with a cry of satisfaction.

“My dear boy, I am glad—­thank God you are back again!  What a relief your coming will be to us all!”

And he shook James warmly by both hands.

“I should hardly have known you, and yet you are not so much changed, either.  Dear, dear, how delighted your mother will be!  You have not seen her yet?”

“No, sir,” James said.  “I dismissed the post chaise at the gate, and walked up quietly.  I was afraid, if I drove suddenly up, the shock might be too much for her.”

“Quite right!” the squire said.  “We must break it to her quietly.  Wilks must do it—­or no, he shall tell Aggie, and she shall tell your mother.”

He rang the bell, and John, who had been expecting a summons, instantly appeared.

“Tell Mr. Wilks I want to speak to him, John.”

The old soldier speedily appeared, and his delight was as great as if James had been his son.  He went off to break the news, and, in a short time, Mrs. Walsham was in the arms of her son.

Major Walsham went no more to the wars, nor did he follow his original intention of entering the medical profession.  Indeed, there was no occasion for him to do either.  For Aggie insisted on his leaving the army; and she had a very strong voice in the matter.  James had not long been home before he and the young lady came to an understanding.  Before speaking to her, James had consulted his old friend.

“You know how I feel,” he said; “but I don’t know whether it would be right.  You see, although I am major in the service, I have nothing but my pay.  I owe everything to the squire, and he would naturally look very much higher for a husband for his granddaughter.”

“Don’t you be a fool, James Walsham,” Mr. Wilks said.  “I made up my mind that you should marry Aggie, ever since the day when you got her out of the sea.  The squire has known, for years, what I thought on the subject.  You will meet with no opposition from him, for he is almost as proud of you as I am.  Besides, he thinks only of Aggie’s happiness, and, unless I am greatly mistaken, that young lady has fully made up her mind on the subject.”

This was indeed the case, for Aggie, when James had settled the point with her, made no hesitation in telling him that she had regarded him as her special property since she had been a child.

“I considered it all settled, years and years ago,” she said demurely, “and I was quite aggrieved, I can tell you, when, on your arrival, you just held out your hand to me, instead of—­well, instead of doing the same to me as to your mother.”

“You shall have no reason for complaint, that way, in the future, Aggie, I promise you.  But how could I tell?  The last time I saw you, you were flirting, as hard as you could, with someone else.”