Christy gave the bell a very vigorous pull, and the servant that came to the door was a stranger to him. He wished to see Mrs. Passford; and the man was about to conduct him to the reception room, when he bolted from him.
"Mrs. Passford is engaged just now, sir; but she will be down in a few minutes," said the servant, laying his hand on his arm for the purpose of detaining him.
"But I cannot wait," returned the lieutenant very decidedly, and he shook off the man, and began to ascend the stairs.
An instant later there was a double scream on the floor above, and Mrs. Passford rushed down the steps, followed by Florry. Christy retreated to the hall, and a moment later he was folded in the arms of his mother and sister, both of whom were kissing him at the same time.
"But, my son, your arm is in a sling!" exclaimed Mrs. Passford, falling back with an expression of consternation on her face.
"You are wounded, Christy!" cried Florry, as a flood of tears came into her eyes.
"Only a scratch, mother; don't be alarmed," protested the lieutenant. "It was all nonsense to send me home on a furlough; but it was the commander's order, at the recommendation of Dr. Linscott."
"But you are wounded, my son," persisted his mother.
"You have been shot in the arm, Christy," added Florry.
"But I was not shot through the head or the heart; it is not a bit of use to make a fuss about it; and Paul Vapoor was not wounded, for he had to stay in the engine room during the action, and he is as hearty as a buck," rattled the lieutenant, and making his pretty sister blush like a fresh rose.