The admiral’s letter was overflowing. He could not give Brydell too much encouragement, considered him bound to pass No. 1 next year, and conveyed a long message from Billy Bowline to the effect that “Mr. Brydell, he is bound to be a sailor man, ’cause he’s built that away.”
And Grubb’s letter, which was recklessly spelled and not fully up to the standard of classic English, bade him “go in and Win. You have got Sand, Mr. Brydell, and Sand is what makes a man. Some fellows as learns a lott out of books ain’t got no natural manly carackter and disapp’ints their friends. But you are not the sort to disapp’int.” Grubb then went on to lament that he was stationed at Portsmouth. “For the cadets cruze will most likely be here, Mr. Brydell, and there’s one of them, for reasons which is known to you, as I would ruther not see in present serkumstances.”
Brydell knew that the poor fellow meant Esdaile.
Meanwhile Brydell was working like a Trojan at his books.
Every evening after supper he would be claimed for half an hour by little Minna, to play on the piano for her, to tell her stories, or to amuse her in some way. Then he would take a lamp and go to his room and study hard.
Often he was very tired, but it was a healthful fatigue. He did not feel any sense of nervous exhaustion, but, if he found himself falling asleep over his books, he would go to bed and get up at daylight next morning feeling perfectly refreshed.
The outdoor life agreed with him wonderfully, and his boyish figure began to fill out and lose some of its angles. And he had the consciousness of making headway with his studies. He was forced to adopt the old-fashioned plan of relying upon himself, instead of the new-fashioned one of having a tutor to study with him and to take most of the trouble off him.
Besides making steady progress in studies and character and physique, he actually found himself happy. He had no associates of his own age, it is true; the neighborhood was sparsely populated and he did not find any very congenial acquaintances among boys of his own age, but he comforted himself by thinking, “Never mind, I’ll have lots of fellows for company next year.” He came to like Mr. Laurison; and Mrs. Laurison’s kindness was unvarying. Little Minna became the apple of his eye.
In the summer she had a slight illness, and Brydell did not realize until then how fond he was of the little girl. He was always on hand to do anything for her, and the child would take her medicine more readily from him than from anybody else.
This still more won Mrs. Laurison’s heart, and there was keen sympathy between her and the boy who had never known a mother’s love. He often thought: “If Aunt Emeline had been like this!” Minna got well quickly, but from that day on Brydell’s affection for the mother and child became intense. Mrs. Laurison knew that Brydell was preparing for his examination another year, but as she said to him sometimes: