“Can’t he go on board the Petrel with Allen?”
“Mother did think of that,” said Babie, “but Allen said he wasn’t in spirits for the charge, and that cabin No. 2 wasn’t comfortable enough.”
Jock was not the least surprised at this selfishness, but he said—
“We will get him away somehow, Infanta, never fear! And when you have left this place, you’ll be all right. You’ll have the Friar, and he is a host in himself.”
“Yes,” said Babie, ruefully, “but he is not a brother after all. Oh, Jock! mother says it is very wrong in me, but I can’t help it.”
“What is wrong, little one?”
“To feel it so dreadful that you and Bobus are going! I know it is honour and glory, and promotion, and chivalry, and Victoria crosses, and all that Sydney and I used to care for; but, oh! we never thought of those that stayed at home.”
“You were a famous Spartan till the time came,” said Jock, in an odd husky voice.
“I wouldn’t mind so much but for mother,” said poor Barbara, in an apologetic tone; “nor if there were any stuff in Allen; nor if dear Armie were well and like himself; but, oh dear! I feel as if all the manhood and comfort of the family would be gone to the other end of the world.”
“What did you say about mother?”