She takes things too seriously, and that bores
people."
It must be confessed that to her young acquaintances Mrs. Herrick
was rather awe-inspiring. Mere pleasure-seekers--drones in the human
hive and all such ne'er-do-weels--were careful to give her a wide
berth. Her quiet little speeches sometimes had a sting in them. "She
takes the starch out of a fellow, don't you know," observed one of
these fashionable loafers, a young officer in the Hussars--"makes
him think he's a worm and no man, and that sort of thing; but she
doesn't understand us Johnnies." Perhaps Mrs. Herrick would
willingly have recalled her crushing speech when, years after, she
read the account of Charlie Gordon's death. "He would have had the
Victoria Cross if he had lived," exclaimed his weeping mother to
Mrs. Herrick. "They say he was the bravest and the finest officer
that they had ever known. You can read the account for yourself. All
those lives saved by his gallantry." But here the poor woman could
say no more. How could any woman bear to think of her boy standing
at bay in that dreadful defile, to gain a few precious moments until
help came?
"I wish I had not been so hard on him," thought Mrs.
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