The day was already drawing to a close as he descended the little path to the Burnside, and saw his mother awaiting him in the porch. As he came nearer, he perceived that she held up a letter in her hand. “Something important, Tony dear,” cried she. “It is printed at top, 'On H. M's Service,' and marked 'Immediate' underneath. I have been very impatient all the day for your return.”
Although Tony's mood at the moment did not dispose him to be on the very best terms with the world at large, nor even with himself, he felt a strange sort of vainglorious glow through him at being addressed on a great square-shaped envelope, “On Her Majesty's Service,” and with a huge seal, the royal arms affixed. It imparted a sense of self-importance that was very welcome at such a moment It was a spoonful of brandy to a man not far from fainting.
With all this, he did n't like his mother to see how much this gratified or interested him; and he tossed the letter to one side, and said, “I hope the dinner isn't far off; I'm very hungry.”
“It will be on the table in a few minutes, Tony; but let us hear what Her Majesty wants with you.”
“It's nothing that won't keep till I have eaten my dinner, mother; at all events, I don't mean to inquire.”
“I suppose I may break the seal myself, then,” said she, in a half-pique.
“If you like,—if you have any curiosity in the matter.”
“That I have,” said she, tearing open the envelope. “Why, it's nothing, after all, Tony. It's not from Her Majesty at all. It begins 'Dear Butler.'”
“It's from Skeffy,” cried he, taking it from her hands, “and is far more interesting to me than if it came from the Premier.”
Mrs. Butler sat down, disappointed and sad. It was a reminiscence of long ago, that formally shaped document, with its big seal, reminding her of days when the Colonel—her Colonel—used to receive despatches from the War Office,—grave documents of which he seldom spoke, but whose importance she could read in the thoughtful lines of his face, and which always impressed her with his consequence. “Ah, dear!” sighed she, drearily, “who would have thought it?”