a doubtful blessing—a family failing—old battles—the canal-carrier's home.

when we found that rupert's leg was not broken, and that it was only a severe blow on his knee, we were all delighted. but when weeks and months went by and he was still lame and very pale and always tired, we began to count for how long past, if the leg had been broken, it would have been set, and poor rupert quite well. and when johnny bustard said that legs and arms were often stronger after being broken than before (if they were properly set, as his father could do them), we felt that if gregory would bowl for people's shins he had better break them at once, and let mr. bustard make a good job of them.

the first part of the time rupert made light of his accident, and wanted to go back to school, and was very irritable and impatient. but as the year went on he left off talking about its being all nonsense, [47]and though he suffered a great deal he never complained. i used quite to miss his lecturing me, but he did not even squabble with henrietta now.

this reminds me of a great fault of mine—i am afraid it was a family failing, though it is a very mean one—i was jealous. if i was "particular friends" with any one, i liked to have him all to myself; when rupert was "out" with me because of the weston affair, i was "particular friends" with henrietta. i did not exactly give her up when rupert and i were all right again, but when she complained one day (i think she was jealous too!) i said, "i'm particular friends with you as a sister still; but you know rupert and i are both boys."

i did love rupert very dearly, and i would have given up anything and everything to serve him and wait upon him now that he was laid up; but i would rather have had him all to myself, whereas henrietta was now his particular friend. it is because i know how meanly i felt about it that i should like to say how good she was. my mother was very delicate, and she had a horror of accidents; but henrietta stood at mr. bustard's elbow all the time he was examining rupert's knee, and after that she always did the fomentations and things. at first rupert said she hurt him, and would have nurse to do it; but nurse hurt him so much more, that then he [48]would not let anybody but henrietta touch it. and he never called her monkey now, and i could see how she tried to please him. one day she came down to breakfast with her hair all done up in the way that was in fashion then, like a grown-up young lady, and i think rupert was pleased, though she looked rather funny and very red. and so henrietta nursed him altogether, and used to read battles to him as he lay on the sofa, and rupert made plans of the battles on cardboard, and moved bits of pith out of the elder-tree about for the troops, and showed henrietta how if he had had the moving of them really, and had done it quite differently to the way the generals did, the other side would have won instead of being beaten.

and mother used to say, "that's just the way your poor father used to go on! as if it wasn't enough to have to run the risk of being killed or wounded once or twice yourself, without bothering your head about battles you've nothing to do with."

and when he did the battle in which my father fell, and planted the battery against which he led his men for the last time, and where he was struck under the arm, with which he was waving his sword over his head, rupert turned whiter than ever, and said, "good heavens, henrietta! father limped up to that battery! he led his men for two hours, after [49]he was wounded in the leg, before he fell—and here i sit and grumble at a knock from a cricket-ball!"

just then mr. bustard came in, and when he shook rupert's hand he kept his fingers on it, and shook his own head; and he said there was "an abnormal condition of the pulse," in such awful tones, that i was afraid it was something that rupert would die of. but henrietta understood better, and she would not let rupert do that battle any more.

rupert's friends were very kind to him when he was ill, but the kindest of all was thomas johnson.

johnson's grandfather was a canal-carrier, and made a good deal of money, and johnson's father got the money and went on with the business. we had a great discussion once in the nursery as to whether johnson's father was a gentleman, and rupert ran down-stairs, and into the drawing-room, shouting, "now, mother! is a carrier a gentleman?"

and mother, who was lying on the sofa, said, "of course not. what silly things you children do ask! why can't you amuse yourselves in the nursery? it is very hard you should come and disturb me for such a nonsensical question."

rupert was always good to mother, and he shut the drawing-room door very gently. then he came rushing up to the nursery to say that mother said "of course not." but henrietta said, "what did you [50]ask her?" and when rupert told her she said, "of course mother thought you meant one of those men who have carts to carry things, with a hood on the top and a dog underneath."

johnson's father and grandfather were not carriers of that kind. they owned a lot of canal-boats, and one or two big barges, which took all kinds of things all the way to london.

mr. johnson used to say, "in my father's time men of business lived near their work both in london and the country. that's why my house is close to the wharf. i am not ashamed of my trade, and the place is very comfortable, so i shall stick to it. tom may move into the town and give the old house to the foreman when i am gone, if he likes to play the fine gentleman."

tom would be very foolish if he did. it is the dearest old house one could wish for. it was built of red brick, but the ivy has covered it so thickly that it is clipped round the old-fashioned windows like a hedge. the gardens are simply perfect. in summer you can pick as many flowers and eat as much fruit as you like, and if that is not the use and beauty of a garden, i do not know what is.

johnson's father was very proud of him, and let him have anything he liked, and in the midsummer holidays johnson used to bring his father's trap and [51]take rupert out for drives, and mrs. johnson used to put meat pies and strawberries in a basket under the seat, so that it was a kind of picnic, for the old horse had belonged to mr. bustard, and was a capital one for standing still.

it was partly because of the johnsons being so kind to rupert that johnson minor and i became chums at school, and partly because the fight had made us friendly, and i had no rupert now, and was rather jealous of his taking completely to henrietta, and most of all, i fancy, because johnson minor was determined to be friends with me. he was a very odd fellow. there was nothing he liked so much as wonderful stories about people, and i never heard such wonderful stories as he told himself. when we became friends he told me that he had never meant to bully me when he asked about my father; he really did want to hear about his battles and so forth.

but the utmost i could tell him about my father was nothing to the tales he told me about his grandfather, the navy captain.