never see you again, and you will hardly know what became of me. But you won’t forget me, old boy, will you?” and poor Charlie gave way once more, and turned his wet cheek down upon his pillow, as he heard the doctor’s step along the passage; for he was ashamed of his weakness, though he knew it was but the effect of his wounds. Hark! there is some one with him; the doctor is bringing a visitor to see him. He knows that firm, heavy tread. Is it one of his brother-officers?--how kind of them! No, that is no dragoon’s step: it is familiar, too, and yet he cannot remember where he has heard it. Is he dreaming? Over the doctor’s shoulder peers a well-known face, embrowned with travel, but with the old kind, frank expression beaming through those manly features. In another instant Charlie is clasping Frank Hardingstone’s strong hand in his own two emaciated ones, and after an abortive “How are ye, old fellow?” and a vain effort to laugh off his emotion, is sobbing once more like a woman or a child. “So you came out all the way from England on purpose to look after me,” said he, when the first burst of feeling had subsided; “how like you, old Frank--how kind of you!--and what did they say about me at home? and wasn’t Blanche sorry for me when she thought I was killed? and did Uncle Baldwin and--and Mrs. Delaval read the dispatch? and where are they all now? You know I’m to have sick-leave, and we’ll go back together. When does the doctor think I shall be able to sail? Frank, he’s a shocking muff; I’ve been in this bed for thirteen weeks, but I shall get up to-day--of course he’ll let me get up to-day;” and so Charlie ran on, and Frank was soon forcibly withdrawn from the patient, whose over-excitement was likely to be as prejudicial as his late despondency; but the maligned doctor whispered to him as he went out, “Your arrival, sir, has done more for my patient than the whole pharmacopoeia: he’ll be well now in a fortnight.” The doctor was right. From that day Charlie began to mend. Many a long hour Frank sat by his bedside, and talked to him of home, and of his prospects, and of his cousin (honest Frank), and settled over and over again their plans of departure, to which Charlie was never tired of listening; and after every one of these visits the boy’s appetite was better and his sleep sounder, and in a few days he got out of bed, and then he was moved into the hospital-sergeant’s room, who readily vacated his apartment for the young officer; and then he got out on Frank’s arm into the summer air, for which he had so pined--pleasant it was, but yet not _so_ pleasant as he thought it would be, when he lay in that dull ward; and then his voracity became something ridiculous, and at the end of about three weeks Frank helped him up the companion-way of the _Phlegethon_, 200 horse-power, homeward-bound; and although wasted to a skeleton, his large eyes looked bright and clear, and now that he was really on his way to England he was well.