once deprecatory
and insinuating about the rascal that I thought I recognised. There came
to me from my own boyhood memories of certain passionate admirations
long passed away, and the objects of them long ago discredited or dead.
I remembered how anxious I had been to serve those fleeting heroes, how
readily I told myself I would have died for _them_, how much greater and
handsomer than life they had appeared. And, looking in the mirror, it
seemed to me that I read the face of Rowley, like an echo or a ghost, by
the light of my own youth. I have always contended (somewhat against the
opinion of my friends) that I am first of all an economist; and the last
thing that I would care to throw away is that very valuable piece of
property--a boy's hero-worship.

"Why," said I, "you shave like an angel, Mr. Rowley!"

"Thank you, my lord," says he. "Mr. Powl had no fear of me. You may be
sure, sir, I should never 'ave had this berth if I 'adn't 'ave been up
to Dick. We been expecting of you this month back. My eye! I never see
such preparations. Every day the fires has been kep' up, the bed made,
and all! As soon as it was known you were coming, sir, I got the
appointment; and I've been up and down since then like a
Jack-in-the-box. A wheel couldn't sound in the avenue but what I was at
the window! I've had a many disappointments; but to-night, as soon as
you stepped out of the shay, I knew it was my--it was you. O, you had
been expected! Why, when I go down to supper, I'll be the 'ero of the
servants' 'all: the 'ole of the staff is that curious!"

"Well," said I, "I hope you may be able to give a fair account of
me--sober, steady, industrious, good-tempered, and with a first-rate
character from my last place?"

He laughed an embarrassed laugh. "Your hair curls beautiful," he said,
by way of changing the subject. "The Viscount's the boy for curls,
though; and the richness of it is, Mr. Powl tells me his don't curl no
more than that much twine--by nature. Gettin' old, the Viscount is. He
_'ave_ gone the pace, 'aven't 'e, sir?"

"The fact is," said I, "that I know very little about him. Our family
has been much divided, and I have been a soldier from a child."

"A soldier, Mr. Anne, sir?" cried Rowley, with a sudden feverish
animation. "Was you ever wounded?"

It is contrary to my principles to discourage admiration for myself;
and, slipping back the shoulder of the dressing-gown, I silently
exhibited the scar which I had