“What is better than a monument, friend?” asked Mrs. Sackville, riveted to the spot, as most mothers would be, by an honest commendation of her children.
“The memory of an innocent heart—and a tear from eyes that never cried for sin, my lady—we soldiers die, and are turned into the turf—but we are honored in our officers.”
“Farewell, my friend; I wish you well,” said Mrs. Sackville, dropping a piece of money into the soldier's hand, and then turned from him while he was still uttering his hearty, “God bless you, my lady.”
Julia hailed Edward as he was bounding off towards the flag-staff, and begged him to stop for her, as she had something private to say to him. He laughed at her passion for secrets, said he could not possibly be detained, and at last good naturedly stopped to listen. “Ned,” she said, “I tell you what I was thinking of—as it was our fault, you know, that poor Mrs. Barton lost her money—and she is so anxious to get to Quebec—and that little Dick is such a good good natured little fellow—I was thinking, Ned—”
“For mercy's sake think a little faster, Julia.”
“Well, I was thinking, if we could contrive some way to have her go down in the boat with us.”
“Contrive! it could not take us long to contrive I think: we can only ask papa, you know, and all the contrivance in the world will do her no good, if he does not think it best.”
“But, then, Ned, there is one thing I would like to propose to father and mother, if you are willing to join me.”
“Don't be so round-about, Julia, as if I was the great Mogul. Speak out.”
“Well then, to speak plain—you know Edward, you and I have each of us five dollars that papa gave us to buy Canada curiosities with; now I think if we were to club, we might have enough to get Mrs. Barton to Quebec, if the captains of the boats are good-natured men, and reasonable in their charges, and if papa approves the scheme—and if”——