Just a few weeks after this, and while reading a letter at breakfast, my master’s face flushed with joy.
There was nobody in the room but me, for the old lady did not come down to breakfast very early.
“Why, pussy Shireen, what do you think?” he cried.
Of course, I couldn’t tell what the matter might be.
“My regiment—the 78th Highlanders—has been ordered to Persia, to give the Persians a drubbing for insolence to our Government, and if I am well enough I must join forthwith. Hurrah! Of course I’m well enough.
“There will be many regiments there as well as ours, but oh, Shireen! won’t it be joyful, and you must come too, pussy. It may seem strange for the captain of a gallant regiment to have a cat as a pet, but what care I? Many a brave soldier has loved his pussy, so you come along with me, and I’ll chance it.
“Now,” he added, “I’ll just write a letter to the War Office, saying that I am well, and burning to join my regiment, then I’ll go down the hill and post it before auntie is up. That will settle it.”
Well, of course, children, Mrs Clifford was very sorry to lose her dear Edgar, as she called him, so soon again; but she was a brave old lady, and though she cried a little, she gave him a blessing and bade him go.
“Duty must be obeyed, Edgar,” she said, “even though hearts should break. Go, my boy, your country calls you.”