who would bear what he has done to-day would do far more.'

'If it had been for any reasonable cause,' said the Earl.

'You may not understand it, Lord Ormersfield,' exclaimed James, 'but I
do. In these times of disaffection, a sound heart, and whole spirit,
in our volunteer corps may be the saving of the country; and who can
tell what may be the benefit of such an exhibition of self-sacrificing
zeal. The time demands every man's utmost, and neither risk nor
suffering can make him flinch from his duty.'

'My dear Jem,' said a voice behind him at the window, 'I never see my
follies so plainly as when you are defending them. Come and help me up
stairs; Granny is ordering me up; a night's rest will set all smooth.'

It was not a night's rest, neither did it set things smooth. In vain
did Louis assume a sprightly countenance, and hold his head and
shoulders erect and stately; there was no concealing that he was very
pale, and winced at every step. His ankle had been much hurt by the
pressure of the stirrup, and he was not strong enough to bear with
impunity severe pain, exertion, and fatigue on a burning summer day. It
was evident that his recovery had been thrown back for weeks.

His father made no reproaches, but was grievously disappointed. His
exaggerated estimate of his son's discretion had given place to a no
less misplaced despondency, quite inaccessible to Mrs. Ponsonby's
consolations as to the spirit that had prompted the performance. He
could have better understood a youth being unable to forego the
exhibition of a handsome person and dress, than imagine that any one of
moderate sense could either expect the invasion, or use these means of
averting it. If imagination was to be allowed for, so much the worse.
A certain resemblance to the childish wilfulness with which his wife
had trifled with her health, occurred to him, increasing his vexation
by gloomy shadows of the past.

His silent mortification and kind anxiety went to his son's heart.
Louis was no less disappointed in himself, in finding his own judgment
as untrustworthy as ever, since the exploit that had been a perpetual
feast to his chivalrous fancy had turned out a mere piece of
self-willed imprudence, destroying all the newly-bestowed and
highly-valued good opinion of his father; and even in itself,
incompetently executed. 'He had made a fool of himself every way.'
That had been James's first dictum, and he adopted it from conviction.