“Ah, poor fellow! he can’t help that,” said Peter, in a tone of pity. “Some people are born with that sort of desperate activity—flying to assist every one—running up stairs for whatever is wanted—searching for whatever is lost—and picking up whatever has been dropped. I have seen several others like Frank, who were troubled with that sort of turn. He is indulging his own inclination in flying about everywhere for everybody, as much as I do in sitting still!—it is all nature!—you know tastes differ, for some people like apples and some like onions.”

Frank had a black shade of himself, drawn in uniform [189] ]and put into a gilt frame, all for one shilling, which he presented to his grandmama, who looked sadly at the likeness when he came smiling into her dressing-room, and calling Harry to assist in knocking a nail into the wall, that it might be hung above the chimney-piece. “I need nothing to remind me of you, dear Frank,” observed Lady Harriet, “and this is a sad exchange, the shadow for the substance.” Frank gave a handsome new red morocco spectacle-case to uncle David, and asked leave to carry away the old one with him as a remembrance. He bought gowns for all the maids, and books for all the men-servants. He presented Mrs. Crabtree with an elegant set of tea-cups and saucers, promising to send her a box of tea the first time he went to China; and for Laura and Harry he produced a magnificent magic lanthorn, representing all the stars and planets, which cost him several guineas. It was exhibited the evening before Frank went away, and caused great entertainment to a large party of his companions, who assembled at tea to take leave of him, on which occasion Peter Grey made a funny speech, proposing Frank’s health in a bumper of bohea, when the whole party became very merry, and did not disperse till ten.

Major Graham intended accompanying Frank to Portsmouth, and they were to set off by the mail next evening. That day was a sad one to Harry and Laura, who were allowed a whole holiday; but not a sound of merriment was heard in the house, except when Frank tried to make them cheerful, by planning what was to be done after he came back, or when Major Graham invented droll stories about the adventures Frank would probably meet with at sea. Even Mrs. Crabtree looked more grave and cross than usual; and she brought Frank a present of a needle-case made with her own hands, and filled with thread of every kind, saying, that she heard all “midshipmites” learned to mend their things, and keep them decent, which was an [190] ]excellent custom, and ought to be encouraged; but she hoped he would remember, that “a stitch in time saves nine.”

Lady Harriet stayed most of that day in her dressing-room, and tried to conceal the traces of many tears when she did appear; but it was only too evident how sadly her time had been passed alone.

“Grandmama!” said Frank, taking her hand affectionately, and trying to look cheerful; “we shall meet again; perhaps very soon!”

Lady Harriet silently laid her hand upon the Bible, to show that there she found the certain assurance of another meeting in a better world; but she looked at Frank with melancholy affection, and added, very solemnly and emphatically,

“‘There is no union here of hearts,

That finds not here an end.’”

“But, grandmama! you are not so very old!” exclaimed Laura, earnestly. “Lord Rockville was born ten years sooner, and besides, young people sometimes die before older people.”

“Yes, Laura! young people may die, but old people must. It is not possible that this feeble aged frame of mine can long remain in the visible world. ‘The eye of him that hath seen me shall me no more.’ I have many more friends under the earth now, than on it. The streets of this city would be crowded, if all those I once knew and still remember, could be revived; but my turn is fast coming, like theirs, and Frank knows, as all of you do, where it is my hope and prayer that we may certainly meet again.”