pe or strong in expectation. Mrs. Conway had never lent herself to the
impression that the claim had much foundation, and she heard the tidings
with calm; and all that was remembered of the whole transaction was
when some jocular allusion would be made by Charles to the time when he
should succeed to his peerage, or some as light-hearted jest of the
old lady as to whether she herself was to enjoy a title or not The
more stirring incidents of a great campaign had latterly, however, so
absorbed all the young soldier's interest that he seemed totally to have
forgotten the oft-recurring subject of joke between them. Strange enough
was it, yet, that in the very letter which conveyed to his mother
an account of his Tchernaya achievement, a brief postscript had the
following words:--

"Since I have been confined to hospital, a person connected
with the newspapers, I believe, has been here to learn the
exact story of my adventure, and, curiously enough, has been
pumping me about our family history. Can it be that 'our
peerage' is looking up again? This last sabre-cut on my
skull makes me rather anxious to exchange a chako for a
coronet. Can you send me anything hopeful in this
direction?"

It was on an answer to this letter the old lady was occupied, seated at
an open window, as the sun was just setting on a calm and mellow evening
in late autumn. Well understanding the temperament of him she addressed,
she adverted little to the danger of his late achievement, and simply
seemed to concur in his own remark when recounting it, that he who has
made his name notorious from folly has, more than others, the obligation
to achieve a higher and better reputation; and added, at the same time:
"Charley, what I liked best in your feat was its patriotism. The sense
of rendering a good and efficient service to the cause of your country
was a nobler prompting than any desire for personal distinction." From
this she turned to tell him about what she well knew he loved best
to hear of,--her home and her daily life, with its little round of
uneventful cares, the little Welsh pony "Crw," and his old spaniel
"Belle," and the tulips he had taken such pains about, and the well
he had sunk in the native rock. She had good tidings, too, that the
railroad--the dreadful railroad--was not to take the line of their happy
valley, but to go off in some more "favored" direction. Of the cottage
itself she had succeed