country. He passed with a shrug Nevil's puling outcry for the enemy as
well as our own poor fellows: 'At his steppes again!' And he had to be
forgiving when reports came of his nephew's turn for overdoing his duty:
'show-fighting,' as he termed it.

'Braggadocioing in deeds is only next bad to mouthing it,' he wrote very
rationally. 'Stick to your line. Don't go out of it till you are
ordered out. Remember that we want soldiers and sailors, we don't want
suicides.' He condescended to these italics, considering impressiveness
to be urgent. In his heart, notwithstanding his implacably clear
judgement, he was passably well pleased with the congratulations
encompassing him on account of his nephew's gallantry at a period of
dejection in Britain: for the winter was dreadful; every kind heart that
went to bed with cold feet felt acutely for our soldiers on the frozen
heights, and thoughts of heroes were as good as warming-pans. Heroes we
would have. It happens in war as in wit, that all the birds of wonder
fly to a flaring reputation. He that has done one wild thing must
necessarily have done the other; so Nevil found himself standing in the
thick of a fame that blew rank eulogies on him for acts he had not
performed. The Earl of Romfrey forwarded hampers and a letter of praise.
'They tell me that while you were facing the enemy, temporarily attaching
yourself to one of the regiments--I forget which, though I have heard it
named--you sprang out under fire on an eagle clawing a hare. I like
that. I hope you had the benefit of the hare. She is our property, and
I have issued an injunction that she shall not go into the newspapers.'
Everard was entirely of a contrary opinion concerning the episode of
eagle and hare, though it was a case of a bird of prey interfering with
an object of the chase. Nevil wrote home most entreatingly and
imperatively, like one wincing, begging him to contradict that and
certain other stories, and prescribing the form of a public renunciation