“Yes, poor fellow,” said Tom; “he has been sick for nearly ten days.”
“But how came you to be with him?” asked the Professor. “Why are you not with your regiment?”
“Sit down,” said Tom, “and I’ll tell you; but don’t speak too loud, on his account, you know!”
“Among the wonderful effects of the war,” said the Professor, in a didactic manner, “may be mentioned the fact that it has made Tom thoughtful and considerate. Well, go on!”
“That sounds just like you,” said Tom. “Well, the explanation is simply this: that I had a leave of absence for a fortnight given me, and just at its beginning Ned was taken sick.”
“So you remained here with him, and didn’t go home?” asked the Professor.
“Of course,” said Tom, simply. “I couldn’t leave him after all we had been through together.”
“What did your mother say?” asked the Professor. “Wasn’t she disappointed?”
“Yes, she was disappointed,” said Tom; “but she wrote and said that I was right. It was hard on Ned, and hard on me, and hard on her, especially as I haven’t been home for a year. You see, in my last leave of absence, there was some of the worst fighting that we have been in, and it would have seemed cowardly if I had gone then.”
“It is hard, Tom,” said the Professor; “but you have done nobly. But if I stay here with Ned now, can’t you run up North?”