have many more opportunities of
'keeping company' with a red-coat."

"How d'you mean?" he asked, with an uneasy, downward glance at his
uniform. "My time isn't up for nearly three years; and I know I ought
not to come here in this rig-out."

"Don't talk nonsense," she answered. "You're a pretty soldier to be
ashamed of your cloth. Isn't it possible for a man to do his duty
unless he has a pair of epaulettes on his shoulders? Can't he do it
under any kind of coat? Come now," she added, shaking his arm, and
looking up into his face with a mischievous twinkle in her eyes, "don't
you think, for the matter of that, a man could be a hero in his shirt
sleeves?"

"Yes," answered Jack, laughing.

"Oh, you do! I'm glad you've come to that conclusion at last."

"Why?"

"Why? because I think you'll soon have to give us a practical
illustration of how a man can distinguish himself by being capable and
trustworthy, even in plain clothes. That opens up a subject that I
have a lot to tell you about. Have you heard that your father and your
Uncle John are friends again?"

"Yes; Val said something about it."

"You haven't heard," she continued quietly, "that before the second
battle Valentine made a will, and gave it to a friend to be sent home
in case he was killed. It was more in the form of a long letter,
roughly written on the leaves of a pocket-book. A great deal of it was
about you. He did not break his promise to you, and say actually that
he had seen you, and where you were; but he assured us that he knew you
had not gone to the bad, but were living an honest life, and that
before long we should see you again. Then he begged his father, as a
last request, to do something for you, and to treat you as his own son.
Your uncle was over the other day. He is very anxious to carry out
Valentine's wishes, and would like to take you into his own business,
with a view to an ultimate partnership."

"It's awfully good of him," murmured Jack huskily.

"Well, that's what he intends to do. But come, it's time I put in the
tea."

"It's time I went," he murmured.

"Time you went? What nonsense! You say you've got a week's furlough,
and that you left your things at the Black Horse. Well, I'm just going
to send Jakes to fetch them. Why, I quite forgot to tell you that
little Bar was staying here."

The person who had just stepped out from the open French window on to
the lawn was certainly no longer little, but a