For a moment she looked puzzled, then, with a
little start, she laid it down by the side of her plate. She had
recognized the handwriting once so familiar to her.
"What is it, mother? You look quite startled. Who is it from?"
"It is from no one you know, Ralph. I think it is from a person I have
not heard from for some years. At any rate it will keep until you are
off to school."
"It's nothing unpleasant, I hope, mother. Your color has quite gone,
and you look downright pale."
"What should be the matter, you silly boy?" Mrs. Conway said, with an
attempt to smile. "What could there be unpleasant in a letter from a
person I have not heard from for years? There, go on with your
breakfast. I expect you will hear some news when you get down into the
town, for the guns in the castle have been firing, and I suppose there
is news of a victory. They said yesterday that a great battle was
expected to be fought against Napoleon somewhere near Leipzig."
"Yes; I heard the guns, mother, and I expect there has been a victory.
I hope not."
"Why do you hope not, Ralph?"
"Why, of course, mother, I don't want the French to be beaten--not
regularly beaten, till I am old enough to have a share in it. Just
fancy what a nuisance it would be if peace was made just as I get my
commission."
"There will be plenty of time for you, Ralph," his mother said
smiling.
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