rug of her shoulders.

"You don't seem to think that of much value, Hetty," remarked Harry,
sadly. "No more it is--to anybody. I'm a poor useless fellow. I'm not
even free to throw it away as I would like, being under orders here and
at home."

"Orders indeed! Why under orders?" cries Miss Hetty. "Aren't you tall
enough, and old enough, to act for yourself, and must you have George
for a master here, and your mother for a schoolmistress at home? If
I were a man, I would do something famous before I was two-and-twenty
years old, that I would! I would have the world speak of me. I wouldn't
dawdle at apron-strings. I wouldn't curse my fortune--I'd make it. I vow
and declare I would!"

Now, for the first time, Harry began to wince at the words of his young
lecturer.

"No negro on our estate is more a slave than I am, Hetty," he said,
turning very red as he addressed her; "but then, Miss Lambert, we don't
reproach the poor fellow for not being free. That isn't generous. At
least, that isn't the way I understand honour. Perhaps with women it's
different, or I may be wrong, and have no right to be hurt at a young
girl telling me what my faults are. Perhaps my faults are not my
faults--only my cursed luck. You have been talking ever so long about
this gentleman volunteering, and that man winning glory, and cracking up
their courage as if I had none of my own. I suppose, for the matter of
that, I'm as well provided as other gentlemen. I don't brag but I'm not
afraid of Mr. Wolfe, nor of Sir John Armytage, nor of anybody else that
ever I saw. How can I buy a commission when I've spent my last shilling,
or ask my brother for more who has already halved with me? A gentleman
of my rank can't go a common soldier--else, by Jupiter, I would! And if
a ball finished me, I suppose Miss Hetty Lambert wouldn't be very sorry.
It isn't kind, Hetty--I didn't think it of you."

"What is it I have said?" asks the young lady. "I have only said Sir
John Armytage has volunteered, and Mr. Wolfe has covered himself with
honour, and you begin to scold me! How can I help it if Mr. Wolfe is
brave and famous? Is that any reason you should be angry, pray?"

"I didn't say angry," said Harry, gravely. "I said I was hurt."

"Oh, indeed! I thought such a little creature as I am couldn't hurt
anybody! I'm sure 'tis mighty complimentary to me to say that a young
lady whose arm is no bigger than your little finger can hurt such a
great strong man as you!