"That was your news, then?"

"Not all of it."

"What is it, then?"

Jerry picked up the bunch of flowers, sniffed at it, and set it down again in the water.

"She's a-coming."

"What?"

"That Miss Deane as sent these is coming in with Mr Lacey this afternoon."

d.i.c.k rose up in his chair, staring excitedly.

"She wanted to come ever so long ago, Mr Lacey said, and now he is going to bring her. Hadn't you better let me give you a shampoo, sir?"

"Miss Deane coming here with the lieutenant--to this wretched place?"

"Well, she ain't coming to see the place; she's a-coming to see you."

"No, no, Jerry! Go and tell Mr Lacey she mustn't come."

"Likely! Now just look here. You want to keep all about yourself quiet, and sits upon me when I says go to the colonel and out with it all, like a man--now don't you?"

"Yes, yes. I'll wait my time," said d.i.c.k; and he added, softly, "If I live."

"And then, as soon as things are a bit different to what you like, back you goes to the old style, and begins giving your orders. Now just fancy me going to the guvnor's quarters and saying to him, 'Hi! you, sir, you're not to bring Miss Deane to the horspittle to-day.'

"'Who says so?' says he.

"'d.i.c.k Smithson, Esquire.'

"And then he says, 'You go and tell d.i.c.k Smithson he's a common soldier, and if he ever dares to send me such a message as that again, I'll report him to the colonel for insubordination'--that's the word, sir, 'insubordination.' I've picked up a deal since I've been in the army; and, as we used to learn at school--and precious little it was!--'positive insolence; comparytive, insubordination: s'perlative mutiny.'"

"Yes, Jerry, you're right; I forget myself sometimes," sighed d.i.c.k.

"Sometimes! Why, you've forgot yourself altogether. Come now, let me give you a spick up, and make you look a little more like old times.

Now then, just a little shampoo."

"No, no."

"And the scissors put round your 'air a bit. Shave wouldn't hurt you neither."

"I wish you wouldn't worry me, Jerry."

"I won't worry you; only you can't see a lady as you are, you know-- Don't want to--keep your eyes shut, please--to see you a bit o' dandy, like Mr Lacey. Feel nice and cool, eh?"

d.i.c.k nodded, and suffered Jerry to place his hands on each side of the basin of water planted upon his knees, so as to keep it steady.

"Nothing like a soft sponge, cold water, and a bit o' scented soap-- those are Mr Lacey's--to comfort you up. Of course, it depends on the oppyrator. I've seen women soaping little kids and making 'em squirm and yell, when I've felt as I could ha' washed the poor little things and made 'em laugh all the time.--This is one of Mr Lacey's towels, too--he wouldn't mind me bringing 'em. I say, though, you are a deal better. Fortni't ago you'd have shrunk like if I'd touched you even as tender as that."

"What's that--pomatum?"

"Pomatum! As if I'd use pomatum to a gent's 'air or a private's either.

No, that's a cream made from a prescription I gave a 'airdresser half a soverin' for. Violets is nothing to it in the way o' smell. I won't quite shampoo you to-day, but give you just an extra brush. You want freshening--that's all--and I don't want you to be tired. Have a shave?"

"No, no; there's nothing to shave."

"Nothing! call that nothing? Why, I've known gents to go and be shaved reg'lar with not half your beard. Well, I'll let you off for another day or two but I must touch up those finger-nails."

d.i.c.k made a gesture, but it was all in vain. Almost before he knew it, Jerry had laid aside towel, brushes, and basin, and begun upon the nails, which he trimmed with wonderful dexterity, commenting the while on things in general.

"Look here," he said: "if you want to keep things quiet, you'd better wear your hands in your pockets. n.o.body as knows anything would believe your name's Smithson, if he sees your hands."

"Why?" said d.i.c.k, who felt half-amused.

"'Cause there's so much breed about your nails. 'Gift on the finger's sure to linger; gift on the thumb is sure to come.' Do you know he calls and sees Miss Deane and her aunt?"

"Mr Lacey?--of course."

"I didn't mean him. Lookers-on see most of the game. Wonder what Mr Lacey would say if I was to tell him all I know."

"What do you mean?"

"Oh, nothing, sir. I dunno what he'd say; but I think I know what he'd do--scrunch Mr Mark like a walnut in a door-hinge!"

"Look here, I don't want to hear any scandal, Jerry. There, that will do! I'll give you a shilling as soon as I have one."

"Thank ye; but don't. Keep it saved up for me, till I can say _sir_ to you proper. When are you going to begin?"

The coming of the hospital attendant with d.i.c.k's dinner interrupted the conversation; and that afternoon, as he sat by the open window, with the bouquet of flowers before him and a book, there was a rustling of silk on the stairs--loud, heavy steps, quiet and light steps as well--and directly after the door was opened, and Lacey, looking proud and happy, ushered Miss Deane into the room.

CHAPTER THIRTY TWO.

A STARTLING FACT.

That event was the turning-point in d.i.c.k Smithson's long illness; and the words said to him by Anna Deane at her visit convinced him that there was something worth living for, even if it was only to have won the respect and friendship of the lady whom he judged now to be the lieutenant's betrothed.

"I knew it," Jerry said, with a good, open smile, as he was finishing d.i.c.k's toilet. "n.o.body knows till they try it what virtue there is in a shampoo."

That was some few days later, when the lieutenant's servant had gone to the hospital, as usual, to see how the patient was getting on, and if anything could be done.

"Rubbish!" cried d.i.c.k, who was still very weak; but there was a different look in his eyes now that was cheering, and it made Jerry rub his hands.

"All right; you call it rubbish. That's the way of the world. Chap's dying; doctor gives him the right stuff, and pulls him round; and he says: 'Physic? Rubbish! I should have got right by myself.'"