“There is a Sir Harry Elphinstone, Secretary of State for the Colonies, ma'am.” “That must be the same, then; my husband always called him Harry; they were like brothers at the Cape long, long ago. Could n't he do something for Tony, think you?” “The very man who could; and maybe, too, in the very sort of career would suit the lad best of all. He's strong of limb and stout of heart, and has brave health,--he's just the man to meet the life and enjoy the very accidents of a new world.” “If he could leave me,--that is, if I could bear to part with _him_, doctor,” said she, with a thick utterance. “These are not days, my dear madam, when a mother can tie a son to her apron. The young birds will leave the nest, make it ever so warm and snug for them; and it was a wise Providence that so decreed it.” “Would there be any impropriety in my writing to Mr.--Sir Harry Elphinstone?” asked she. “I can see none whatever. It is more than likely that he 'll thank you heartily for the chance of serving his old friend's son. Such a great man gives away every day more places than would provide for three generations of either of us; and it must be a rare pleasure when he can serve the Queen and gladden his own heart together.” “You 'd maybe help me with the letter, doctor,” asked she, half diffidently. “Not a doubt of it, Mrs. Butler; my poor aid is quite at your service: but had n't we best, first of all, speir a bit, and see what the lad thinks of it? Let us find out that it's the life he 'd take to willingly. It's no by way of reproach to him I say it; but we all know that when a young fellow gets accustomed to ride a blood horse with a groom after him, and eat his soup with a damask napkin over his knees, it's a sore change to mount a mustang and digest raw buffalo.” “If you mean by that, Dr. Stewart, that Tony has been spoiled by a life of luxury and indolence, you do him great wrong. The poor dear boy is half heart-broken at-times at his purposeless, unprofitable existence. There are days he is so overcome that he can scarcely lift up his head for it. This very morning was one of them; and it was only when Sir Arthur sent over a third time to say, 'You must come; I' ll take no excuse,' that I could persuade him to set off. They are expecting young Captain Lyle to-day, and making all sorts of festive preparations to receive him. Tony has charge of the fireworks; and as Sir Arthur says, 'If you leave your chemicals to other hands, the chances are we shall all be blown up together. '”