There was an involuntary tightening of her hands round him—as if she would guard him from that.
“I hope not, Arthur. One soldier in a family’s enough: and that is to be Richard.”
“Is papa a very big, big brave man, with a flashing sword?”
“Major Layne is tall and very brave. He wears his sword sometimes.”
“Oh, Aunt Mary, I should like to be a soldier and have a sword! When I can write well enough I’ll write a letter to papa to ask him. I’d like to ride on the elephants.”
“They are not as good to ride as horses.”
“Is mamma as pretty as you?” demanded Master Arthur, after a pause.
“Prettier. I am pale and—” sad, she was going to say, but put another word—“quiet.”
“When you go back to India, Aunt Mary, shall you take me? I should like to sail in the great ship.”
“Arthur dear, I do not think I shall go back.”