timidity so far as to put many questions; and at last, with another blush, informed me he was himself expecting a commission.
"Well," said I, "they are fine troops, your British troops in the Peninsula. A young gentleman of spirit may well be proud to be engaged at the head of such soldiers."
"I know that," he said; "I think of nothing else. I think shame to be dangling here at home and going through with this foolery of education, while others, no older than myself, are in the field."
"I cannot blame you," said I. "I have felt the same myself."
"There are—there are no troops, are there, quite so good as ours?" he asked.
"Well," said I, "there is a point about them: they have a defect,—they are not to be trusted in a retreat. I have seen them behave very ill in a retreat."
"I believe that is our national character," he said—God forgive him!—with an air of pride.
"I have seen your national character running away at least, and had the honour to run after it!" rose to my lips, but I was not so ill advised as to give it utterance. Every one should be flattered, but boys and women without stint; and I put in the rest of the afternoon narrating to him tales of British heroism, for which I should not like to engage that they were all true.
"I am quite surprised," he said at last. "People tell you the French are insincere. Now, I think your sincerity is beautiful. I think you have a noble character. I admire you very much. I am very grateful for your kindness to—to one so young," and he offered me his hand.
"I shall see you again soon?" said I.
