w; and I pressed a little closer
to Mercer, and pinched his arm.

"I'll take my share," I whispered quietly, as the door was opened. The
Doctor and the General both rose, as there was the rustle of silk, and I
uttered quite a sob as I was clasped in my mother's arms.

"My dearest boy," she cried, as she kissed me fondly, while I shrank
away, for my stern-looking, military uncle came in with her.

"Why, Charley!" roared the General.

"What, Hawk!" cried my uncle boisterously, and the two old officers
grasped each other's hands, and stood shaking them heartily.

"Why, my dear old man," cried the General, "this is a surprise!"

"Surprise! I should think it is," cried my uncle. "I am delighted.
Like old times, eh?"

"Hah!" ejaculated the General, chuckling, and looking now transformed
into a very genial old gentleman, while the Doctor stood softly stroking
his shirt-frill and smiling benignantly.

"But one moment," cried my uncle. "My sister--poor old Frank Burr's
wife."

"Dear, dear, bless me!" cried the General, advancing with courtly,
chivalric respect to shake hands with my mother. "My dear madam," he
said softly, "it is an honour. I knew your poor husband well."

As he dropped my mother's hand, she bent her head, and her veil sank
down, while the General's eyes fell upon me, and the transformation was
comic.

"Here," he whispered to my uncle, as I looked from one to the other, and
saw the Doctor smiling blandly. "This--this boy--not--Frank Burr's--"

"Yes," said my uncle, nodding to me. "Pupil here. Send him into the
service by and by."

"Bless my soul!--Oh dear me!--Here--I--that is--" stammered the General,
looking from one to the other, till his eyes lit on Bob Hopley, when he
flushed up angrily.

"How dare you, sir! How dare you stand there, with that rabbit and that
wretched ferret! Don't you see that there are ladies present, sir.
'Tention! Put them away. Dress!"

"Here, stop," said my uncle sharply, as he looked round, "We have
interrupted some business."

"No, no, no, no, my dear boy!--nothing, nothing!" cried the General.
"Mere trifle."

"Trifle, eh?" said my uncle, drawing himself up, and looking the fierce
colonel of dragoons. "Frank!"

"Yes, uncle," I said shrinkingly.

"You are in some scrape."

"Yes, uncle."

"What have you been doing?"

"Oh, Charles, pray--pray--" cried my mother.

"Hush," he said, holding up his hand. "Now, sir, speak out."

"Really, my de