inst me, and my feeling towards him has, I own,
scarce been more friendly. All this pain might have been spared to both
of us, had my private papers only been read by those for whom they were
written. I shall say no more now, lest my feelings again should betray
me into hasty words. Heaven bless thee, Harry! Farewell, George! And
take a true friend's advice, and try and be less ready to think evil of
your friends. We shall meet again at the camp, and will keep our weapons
for the enemy. Gentlemen! if you remember this scene to-morrow, you
will know where to find me." And with a very stately bow to the English
officers, the Colonel left the abashed company, and speedily rode away.

CHAPTER XII. News from the Camp

We must fancy that the parting between the brothers is over, that George
has taken his place in Mr. Braddock's family, and Harry has returned
home to Castlewood and his duty. His heart is with the army, and his
pursuits at home offer the boy no pleasure. He does not care to own how
deep his disappointment is, at being obliged to stay under the homely,
quiet roof, now more melancholy than ever since George is away. Harry
passes his brother's empty chamber with an averted face; takes George's
place at the head of the table, and sighs as he drinks from his silver
tankard. Madam Warrington calls the toast of "The King" stoutly every
day; and, on Sundays, when Harry reads the service, and prays for all
travellers by land and by water, she says, "We beseech Thee to hear
us," with a peculiar solemnity. She insists on talking about George
constantly, but quite cheerfully, and as if his return was certain. She
walks into his vacant room, with head upright, and no outward signs of
emotion. She sees that his books, linen, papers, etc., are arranged
with care; talking of him with a very special respect, and specially
appealing to the old servants at meals, and so forth, regarding things
which are to be done "when Mr. George comes home." Mrs. Mountain is
constantly on the whimper when George's name is mentioned, and Harry's
face wears a look of the most ghastly alarm; but his mother's is
invariably grave and sedate. She makes more blunders at piquet and
backgammon than you would expect from her; and the servants find her
awake and dressed, however early they may rise. She has prayed Mr.
Dempster to come back into residence at Castlewood. She is not severe or
haughty (as her wont certainly was) with any of the party,