PHOEBE. The recruiting sergeant? I see.
VALENTINE. These stirring times, Miss Phoebe—he is but half a man who stays at home. I have chafed for months. I want to see whether I have any courage, and as to be an army surgeon does not appeal to me, it was enlist or remain behind. To-day I found that there were five waverers. I asked them would they take the shilling if I took it, and they assented. Miss Phoebe, it is not one man I give to the King, but six.
PHOEBE (brightly). I think you have done bravely.
VALENTINE. We leave shortly for the Petersburgh barracks, and I go to London tomorrow; so this is good-bye.
PHOEBE. I shall pray that you may be preserved in battle, Mr. Brown.
VALENTINE. And you and Miss Susan will write to me when occasion offers?
PHOEBE. If you wish it.
VALENTINE (smiling). With all the stirring news of Quality Street.
PHOEBE. It seems stirring to us; it must have been merely laughable to you, who came here from a great city.
VALENTINE. Dear Quality Street—that thought me dashing! But I made friends in it, Miss Phoebe, of two very sweet ladies.