‘And what are you going to do?’ asked Albinia.  ’You can’t join again.’

’Join! why not?  Here’s a hand for a horse, and an arm for a wife, and the rest will be done much better for me than ever it was before.’

‘But with her? and at Sebastopol!’

‘That’s the very thing’’ cried the colonel, again turning about.  ’Nothing will serve her but to show how a backwoodsman’s daughter can live in a hut.’

‘And what will the general say?’

‘The general,’ cried Emily, ’will endure me better as a fact than as a prospect; and we will teach him that a lady is not all made of nerves and of fancies!  See what he will say if we let him into our paradise!’

Fred brightened, though Albinia’s inquiry had for a moment taken him a little aback.  The one being whom he dreaded was General Ferrars, for whom he cared a thousand times more than for his own elder brother, and he was soon speculating, with his usual insouciance, as to how his announcement might have been received by his lordship, and whether the aunts would look at them as they went through London.

Mr. Kendal met them at the gate, amazed at the avalanche of luggage, but well pleased, for he had grown very fond of Fred, and had been very anxious about him, thinking him broken and enfeebled for life, and hardly expecting him to return from his mad expedition.  He was slow to believe his eyes and ears when he beheld a hale, handsome, vigorous man, full of life and activity, but his welcome and congratulations were of the warmest.  He could far better stand a sudden inroad than if he had had to meditate for a week on entertaining the bride.  Not that the bride wanted entertainment, except waiting upon her husband, who let himself be many degrees less handy than at Malta, for the pleasure of her attentions.

Perhaps the person least gratified was Maurice; for the child shrank with shy reverence from him whom his brother had saved, and would as soon have thought of making a plaything of Gilbert’s sword as of having fun with the survivor.  The sight of such a merry man was a shock, and he abruptly repelled all attempts at playing with him, and kept apart with a big book on a chair before him, a Kendalism for which he amply compensated when familiarity had diminished his awe.

Mr. Kendal, though little disposed to exert himself to talk, liked to watch his wife reviving into animation, and Sophy taking a full share in the glee with which Emily enjoyed turning the laugh against the good-natured soldier.  In the midst of their flush of joy there was a tender consideration about the young couple, such as to hinder their tone from jarring.  Indeed, it was less consideration than fellow-feeling, for Gilbert Kendal had become enshrined in the depths of Fred’s heart; while to Emily the visit was well-nigh a pilgrimage.  All her hero-worship was directed to the youth who had guarded her soldier’s life, nursed him in his sickness, and, as he averred, inspired