‘Herbert Larkins, Madam, F company,’ said our hero briefly, as he saluted.
‘Thank you again, so much.’ And with that the Colonel’s wife rode off.
She did speak of him and his conduct in the most glowing terms.
‘You must do something for him, Conrad.’
‘Certainly, I’ll make him a present; or, better still, you shall—a watch, or a pencil-case, or something.’
‘No, no; something in the regiment, I mean. Promote him.’
‘He’s very young. Barely a year a sergeant. I don’t see my way, I don’t indeed.’
‘There are those vacant colours in G company,’ she said, displaying a curiously intimate acquaintance with regimental news.
‘Colour-sergeant! Impossible!’
‘Surely not, when I ask it.’