d illustrated paper
of the Mutiny date, and fastened in that place of honour--his own
portrait!

After that, for a few minutes, his head swam. He was dimly aware of
what followed: of an open door; of the child running past him and
into the room with cries of joy and explanation, a few only
articulate; of the little old figure that half rose from the couch
and sank back trembling; the flush on the waxen face, the violet
ribbons in the cap, the hand that trembled as it reached out,
incredulous in its humility, to his own. He took it, and her other
hand rested a moment on the back of his, as though it fluttered a
blessing.

Yes; and her hands, when he released them--and it seemed that he had
been holding an imprisoned bird--yet trembled on the coverlet after
her voice had found steadiness.

'An honour--a great honour!' it was saying. 'You will forgive the
liberty?' She nodded towards the portrait. 'We are not quite
strangers, you see. I have always followed your career, sir. I knew
you would grow into a great and worthy man, ever since the day when I
dropped a bandbox in the street--a muddy day it was!--and the box
burst open just as you were passing with half a dozen young gentlemen
from the college. The rest laughed; and when I began to cry--for the
ribbons were muddied--they laughed still more. Do you remember?'

Colonel Baigent had not the faintest recollection of it.

'Ah! but it all happened. And you--you were the only one that
did not laugh. You picked up the box and wiped it with your
handkerchief. You tried to wipe the ribbons, too; but that only made
matters worse. And then, when the others made fun of you, you put
the box under your arm, and said you were going to carry it home for
me. And so you did, though it made you late for your books; and
besides, our house was out of bounds, and you risked a thrashing for
it.'

'I wonder if I got it?' murmured Colonel Baigent.

'I knew nothing about the school bounds at the time, or I should
never have allowed you! And on the way you asked me if I had hurt
myself in falling. I told you "No"; but that was a fib, for my hip
was growing weak even then. It's by reason of my hip that I have to
lie here. But in those days there was no one else to take the
dancing classes, and it would never have done to confess. And--and
that was all. I only met you once after that--it was in the post
office at St Swithun's, and you ran in to get a stamp. I was
s