ettishly.

"Perhaps not, dear father," replied Amos gently; "but some funny words
have a very sharp edge to them."

No sooner had Miss Huntingdon retired to her room after luncheon than
she was joined by Walter. He pretended not to look at her, but, laying
hold of her two hands, and then putting them wide apart from one
another, he said, still keeping his eyes fixed on them, "Unkind hands of
a dear, kind aunt, you had no business to be crossed at luncheon to-day,
for poor Walter had done no harm, he had not showed any want of moral
courage."

Disengaging her hands from her nephew's grasp, Miss Huntingdon put one
of them on his shoulder, and with the other drew him into a chair. "Is
my dear Walter satisfied with his behaviour to his brother?" she asked.

"Ah! that was not the point, Aunt Kate," was his reply; "the hands were
to be crossed when I had failed in moral courage; and I have not failed
to-day."

"No, Walter, perhaps not; but you told me you should like to be taught
moral courage by examples, and what happened to-day suggested to me a
very striking example, so I crossed my hands."

"Well, dear auntie, please let me hear it."

"My moral hero to-day is Colonel Gardiner, Walter."

"Ah! he was a soldier then, auntie?"

"Yes, and a very brave one too; indeed, never a braver. When he was a
young man, and had not been many years in the army, he was terribly
wounded in a battle, and lay on the field unable to raise himself to his
feet or move from his place. Thinking that some one might come round to
plunder the dead and dying before his friends could find him--as, alas!
there were some who were heartless enough to do in those days--and not
wishing that his money should be taken from him, as he had several gold
pieces about him, he managed to get these pieces out of his pocket, and
then to glue them in his clenched hand with the clotted blood which had
collected about one of his wounds. Then he became insensible, and
friends at last recovered his body and brought him to consciousness
again, and the money was found safe in his unrelaxed grasp. I mention
this merely to show the cool and deliberate courage of the man; his
wonderful pluck, as you would call it."

"Very plucky, auntie, very; but please go on."

"Well, many years after, he died in battle, and showed the same
marvellous bravery then. It was in the disastrous engagement of
Prestonpans, in the year 1745. The Highlanders surprised the English