I wrote to Colonel Vernon from London, telling him shortly of the reasons which rendered my exchange into a Regiment in India indispensable, opening my mind to him as to a father, concluding by begging him to let me spend my last few days in England under his roof, as I wished to keep the visit to be a parting impression of home. To Winter I also wrote, less fully, and lastly to Gilpin. This little primitive group, scarce five months known to me, had wound itself into my sympathies, and now, with the exception of Burton, from them alone, of all the variety of my acquaintance, was it hard to part.
"I was beginning to feel puzzled at your long silence," wrote the Colonel, in reply. "You have fully explained, and if the assurance of an old soldier's perfect approbation has any value in your eyes, accept mine; you will be truly welcome here whenever you can come; give us a day's notice, and if you have no objection to a diminutive crib, and a haunted chamber, Mrs. O'Toole says we can keep you altogether under our roof. Kate desires her kind remembrances; she was delighted with your letter, which I hope I was not indiscreet in letting her see, &c." The kindly tone of this letter soothed me, and made me long to be once more among the quiet circle with whom my previous life had so little fitted me to sympathise; I hurried my preparations, and stirred up my agent so effectually, that early in December the Gazette announced "Captain the Hon. Boscawen Egerton from the —— Light Dragoons, to be Captain in the —— Lancers, vice John Thomas Robinson Brown, who exchanges."
The Regiment had not been long in India, and was stationed in the North Western Provinces, where I could have the best chance of seeing a little service.
A few final interviews with the military tailor; a parting visit to, and dinner from my old corps, who really seemed sorry to lose me; my heavy baggage dismissed to Southampton, to await the sailing of the ship in which I was to go out, and I was free to give my last week in England to A——, and its attractions.
I had reserved a curious old picture, the painter unknown, which had been praised by judges; and a Louis Quatorze snuff-box with an exquisite miniature of La Valliere in enamel, from the general disposal of my miscellaneous effects; they were destined for Winter and the Colonel. Tupper's "Proverbial Philosophy," I thought would not be unacceptable to Kate; together with all the prettiest new music I could collect, and several oratorios in Moyen age binding, for Gilpin; and Mrs. O'Toole! could she be forgotten? No! I ransacked Regent Street, for the brightest of scarlet shawls; while mindful of the occupation I had so often watched Mrs. Winter engaged in, Howel and James furnished a handsome buhl knitting case, with a Turquoise button, for her acceptance.
My preparations finished, though not without a certain aching of the heart, I took my way for the last time, to the old city of A——; yet pleasure predominated over pain, as I thought of a whole week with Kate Vernon. I had despatched a line to say I would be with them to dinner on the following day, and the speed of an express train did not suffice for the impatience with which I longed to be once more surrounded with the familiar faces now so endeared to me. I felt jealous of every moment curtailed from the short space of happiness I had so looked forward to; and I believe the driver of the cab that conveyed me from the railway to the Priory thought me insane, so reiterated were my injunctions to drive faster, faster! It was near six o'clock when I drove up to the well-known arched gate; a sharp clear evening; the breath of the panting horse showing like light smoke in the transparent air; I sprang out, while the cabman was stamping his feet, after ringing, and pushing the gate open with the familiarity of an old friend, nearly rushed into the arms of Mrs. O'Toole, who was advancing to open it.
I could see the Colonel's venerable figure in the hall, which was lighted by a pretty antique lamp, and behind him the drawing-room door stood open, showing the curtains snugly drawn, and a ruddy glow pervading the atmosphere of the room, which bespoke a noble fire somewhere.
"Musha, but ye'r welcome, Captin; an' are ye shut of the sickness entirely? There's the Masther longing to spake to ye; never mind the portmanty; give me a hoult of that carpet bag."
"Welcome, a thousand welcomes, my dear Egerton," cried Colonel Vernon, "you are in excellent time, yet we were beginning to watch for you."