This sounded depressing, but Mr. Walrond found that it had a bright
side.

"At any rate, he won't be shot like so many poor fellows; also he has
been in several of the big battles and will be promoted. I look upon him
as a made man. He'll soon shake off his cold in his native air----"

"And we shall have a real wounded hero in the village," said one of the
girls.

"He isn't a wounded hero," answered Janey, "he's only got a chill."

"Well, that's as bad as wounded, dear, and I am sure he would have been
wounded if he could." And so on.

"When are you going back to Cambridge, Anthony?" asked Mrs. Walrond
presently.

"To-morrow morning, I am sorry to say," he answered, and Barbara's face
fell at his words. "You see, I go up for my degree this summer term,
and my father is very anxious that I should take high honours in
mathematics. He says that it will give me a better standing in the Bar.
So I must begin work at once with a tutor before term, for there's no
one near here who can help me."

"No," said Mr. Walrond. "If it had been classics now, with a little
refurbishing perhaps I might. But mathematics are beyond me."

"Barbara should teach him," suggested one of the little girls slyly.