"Well, the excitement of a battle is intense, and its horrors intense also; should I meet Miss Vernon again, though, perhaps, she is no longer Miss Vernon, I shall be able to satisfy her curiosity about a battle.
"Poor Colonel A—— died of his wounds, a fortnight ago. He was as fine fellow as ever breathed; I was close by him when he fell, and I felt that a thousand of those infernal Sikhs would not make up for such a life. They say I am sure of the Lieutenant Colonelcy. Heaven and the Horse Guards only know. If they will give it I will take it, and be thankful, but I have no money to purchase, and I will not ask Egerton's interest.
"May I hope you will answer this letter, if it is not too much trouble; perhaps Winter, if he is near you, will act as your amanuensis; dare I suggest Miss Vernon? I long for some news from my friends, for I feel anxious, somehow, since I heard you had left A——, and the old Priory. I have a sketch of it which I often set up before me as I smoke my last cigar, before turning in, to ensure pleasant dreams. Once more, my dear sir, pray write:
"With the warmest esteem,
"Faithfully yours,
"Fred. B. Egerton."
"A kind, warm-hearted letter," said the Colonel, at its conclusion, in the slow, faint tone, now usual with him. "I am gratified to find him so thoughtful of the past. Ah! if—" he stopped.
"If what?" asked Kate, carelessly, as she was re-reading the letter.
"Nothing, dear child," he returned, despondingly. "You had better tell nurse, she will like to hear of Denny."
"Glory be to God!" ejaculated Mrs. O'Toole, as Kate read the passage relating to her son, aloud. "An' so they're comin' home?"
"No, dear nurse, Captain Egerton says, 'if I ever re-visit England.'"
"Well, sure it's all the same; whin people niver intend a thing they niver talk iv it, but whin they begin to wish for it, they begin to talk iv it, an' whin they've talked a bit, they must do it."