"Tell him, if you are going yourself," I said, "that he is in my gallery of heroes. He will know what it means."
But Aunt Penelope forgot to give the message, so that poor Jonas never knew.
But I had other heroes also. There was a pale young curate, like the celebrated curate in the song, and my heart went out to him—my girlish heart—in full measure, and I put him into my gallery right away; there I gave him a foremost place, although I never spoke to him in my young life, and I don't think, as far as I remember, that his eyes ever met mine.
And now last, but by no means least, I put Captain Carbury into my gallery of heroes, and as I did so I felt my heart beating with pleasure, and I looked full up into my hero's face and smiled at him with such a look of contentment, admiration, and satisfaction that he smiled back again.
"What a nice child you are," he said. "I wonder what you are thinking about?"
Some visitors had now come in and had joined Sir John and Lady Carrington in the drawing-room, and Captain Carbury and I were alone.
"You ought to be very proud," I said, lowering my voice to meet his.
"What about?" he asked.
"Why, this," I answered; "I have done you a tremendous honour."
"Have you, indeed? I can assure you I am pleased and—quite flattered. But do tell me what it is."