Ralph’s two weeks in Toledo were crowded with pleasant outings, and forcible were the indignant exclamations of some attractive young ladies when they learned their midshipman was to desert them; for, except at Annapolis, midshipmen are rare. Of course they wormed from him where he was to spend the rest of his September leave.

“With your classmate Bollup!” cried Mary Ainsworth. “Bollup, Bollup, Bollup! Gracious, what a name! And what’s his sister’s name, Ralph?”

“Gladys,” replied Ralph, innocently, whereupon everybody laughed at the trap he had fallen into; Ralph reddened and then joined in with them.

“Well,” said Mary Ainsworth scornfully, “I don’t wonder she was named Gladys; something should be done for a poor girl born with such an awful name as Bollup; her family evidently tried to strike an average when they gave her her first name.”

And so Ralph said his good-byes and in the middle of September was once more at Hampden Grove. Here nothing could exceed the loving cordiality with which Mrs. Bollup greeted him, the explosive joy of young Bollup, the unrestrained delight of Dorothy; Colonel Bollup soon started to mix up the mint juleps.

“My own recipe, sir; they’re not to be equaled in all Virginia, sir,” and he was much disappointed when Ralph refused, and openly disgusted when young Tom said, “No, thank you, dad.”

However the old gentleman drank all three, not wishing to see such good things wasted, and his good humor soon returned.

“Tom hasn’t taken a single julep this September,” remarked Mrs. Bollup, with evident satisfaction; “I’m awfully glad he doesn’t.”

“Stuff,” snorted the old gentleman; “my juleps would never hurt any one.”

Tom colored and looked uneasy and changed the conversation.

There was yet another of the family who welcomed Ralph to Hampden Grove. She gave him a warm hand clasp, and with radiant face and eloquent eyes said: “I’m so glad you’re with us again, Ralph.” This was all, but it was enough.

Gladys Bollup has already been described. In the year since we have seen her she had grown and developed about as much as is to be expected in a girl of her age. A year ago her eyes had been deep blue, so assuredly they were not light brown or hazel or green now. She then was tall and slender, and still is. The time is coming when she will have lost her girlish figure, and her hair will be gray, but tell me, Himski, can you not in the bright happy youth of your long ago, recall to mind some girl who is even dearer now than she was then, though to-day gray hair has replaced the golden locks that once, in your mind at least, dazzled even the sun with its glory; has not the same face with the true heart illuminating it grown even more beautiful?

The truthful writer of these pages has not much to say of these two weeks that Ralph spent with the Bollups. Soon Dorothy complained that she didn’t see much of Ralph; he was always away with Tom in the mornings and he was forever taking long walks with Gladys in the afternoons and evenings. And in truth Dorothy was right, and she pouted because she wasn’t asked to go along, and thought her sister was “real mean.”

Ralph and Gladys would wander for miles down the path by the river bank; they strolled through the woods and across fields. They must have had much to talk of, but what it was all about I do not know. But one thing is certain, however interesting their talks may have been, they didn’t seem to tell the rest of the family of the subjects that so engrossed them.

As a faithful recorder of the doings of these young people I should pick out some night and record their conversation; and I should tell how the moon rose, or sank, of how fitful winds moaned and sighed, or of the balmy breezes that floated in from the beautiful majestic waters of the river James. And I should tell of the twinkling stars and of glorious cumulus clouds in the heavens overhead. But this would be imagination, which is not my forte. No doubt the stars twinkled, the winds must have blown, the leaves must have rustled on the tree branches pretty much as they did when you, Himski, went wandering about the woods with some pretty girl. But I cannot speak with exactness of these things however attractive or necessary they may be to a story, simply because they were not recorded at the time. However, we may be sure of one thing, that our friend Ralph had a most happy time at Hampden Grove, and that he and Gladys Bollup were fast friends as indeed he was with all the family.

One afternoon toward the end of Ralph’s stay a letter was handed to him. “Hello!” he exclaimed, “here’s a letter from Himski.” A moment later he gave a joyful shout. “Hurrah for you, Tom!” he cried. “You’ve got four stripes. Himski has senior three and adjutant. The other three stripers are Warren, Streeter, and, hello! Billy Bacon gets three—now who’d ever suppose Billy would get anything—and Taylor also. Creelton only gets a buzzard—I’m glad of that; I hope he won’t be in my division; I’d hate to be in his company on any terms.”

Bollup listened with happy eagerness.

“Hooray!” he cried. “Four stripes, by Jiminy, that’s glorious. I’ll have a bully good battalion this coming year; and Himski is to be my adjutant, is he? Well, isn’t that fine? By George, I never was so happy in my life!”

And Bollup looked it. It was indeed an honor that had come to him. “Just watch me next year,” he joyfully cried. “I’ll get a good feed every Sunday at some officer’s house; it will be Mr. Bollup this and Mr. Bollup that from October first till I graduate. The commandant will call me in and invoke my aid to steer the battalion right and I’ll help the old boy so long as he doesn’t spoil any of my fun. Gee whiz, I’m going to have a good time this last year; you can put that statement down in the ship’s log.”

“What does four stripes mean, Thomas?” inquired Colonel Bollup with great interest.

“Four stripes?” repeated Bollup. “Why, it means that your hopeful son is cadet lieutenant-commander, the boss of the ranch, the highest thing a midshipman ever gets to be. That’s what it means, dad.”

“Indeed!” exclaimed the colonel, full of delight; “now in honor of this great event suppose I mix up a real Virginia——”

“Ralph, what did they give you?” interrupted Gladys. “I’m sure if Tom gets four stripes you ought to get six.”

Ralph laughed joyfully. “Thank you, Gladys,” he replied; “I got a clean sleeve, which is more than I deserve. I’m happy enough to have that.”

“Why, your sleeves are never dirty,” remarked Dorothy, thinking she ought to show an intelligent interest in the talk that so absorbed them all; “why, I’ve heard mamma say you’re one of the neatest young men she ever knew.”

Bollup and Ralph thought this a great joke and laughed uproariously.

“I’ll tell you about it, Dorothy,” Ralph said. “You see we have cadet officers at the Academy, whose rank is indicated by the number of stripes on their coat sleeves. And we have petty officers, or non-commissioned officers as they call them in the army, whose rank is shown by eagles, which we call buzzards, on their sleeves. Now the presumably poorest, least deserving of the first class get no rank, are high privates, and they have no mark at all on their sleeves. And I get a clean sleeve, which is really all I deserve. And your brother Tom gets four stripes which makes me very happy,” and indeed Ralph looked it.

“Let me see Himski’s letter,” cried Bollup; “I want to see it myself,” and he took it and started to read it aloud.

“Dear Os,” he commenced, “the assignments of the cadet officers of our class are announced and Bollup gets the four stripes which for ten thousand reasons should have gone to you, the best all around man in the class and number one to boot. You get a clean sleeve, old man; this goes to prove that the officers who made out the stripe list are as great a set of ninnies as usual.”

Bollup stopped and looked up ruefully. “Well,” he said, “Himski isn’t very complimentary to me, is he?”

“I think Mr. Himski is just right,” said Gladys decidedly. “The idea of those officers giving Tom four stripes and Ralph nothing! Why, that’s ridiculous. Tom isn’t fit to be cadet lieutenant-commander of anything. All he thinks of is having a good time and getting good Sunday dinners and walking around so that people can see what a great man he is. Now my idea of the highest cadet officer, the one in command of all the midshipmen, is that he should be ambitious to have them well drilled and to act right. But Tom! You heard him talk, and he meant just what he said. He’ll make a precious fine senior midshipman, won’t he?” and Gladys tossed her head indignantly.

“You know a lot about it, don’t you?” remarked her brother, sullenly; “you’d better come next year and show me how to run it.”

“Tom will do splendidly, Gladys,” said Ralph, anxious to defend his friend; “don’t you worry. I’m awfully glad he’s our four striper; they couldn’t have found a better one in our class. You’ll be proud of your brother next June when you come to see him graduate.”

“Of course I will, Ralph; but why didn’t those officers give you some stripes? you certainly deserve them.”

“Oh, I have a bad record. You see I was court-martialed for hazing; that killed my chances.”

“That wasn’t all, Os,” said Tom; “that Frenching you did, at least the fact that you were caught Frenching, had a good deal to do with the clean sleeve they gave you,” and a look of great interest came into Bollup’s eyes. “Now, Os, we’re all here, far away from the Academy, tell me why you Frenched that night; I’ve been more curious about that than anything that ever happened at Annapolis. You see,” Tom continued, turning to Gladys, “Os Frenched one night last spring; that is he went out of the Academy when he had no right to do so; to leave academic limits without authority is one of the most serious breaches of discipline a midshipman can commit. It’s nothing against his honor; I Frenched a dozen times last year and never got caught. The wrong in violating regulations is being caught at it. Now this was the only time in his life that Os Frenched and he had the hard luck to get spotted. The queer thing about it is that he has never told a soul why he Frenched that night. Really, it’s a mystery. I’ve always been wild to know the reason; come now, Os, old boy, let’s have it. We’ll all keep it secret, won’t we?”

“Oh, Ralph, do tell us the secret. I just love secrets,” cried Dorothy, her eyes opened wide, thinking she was going to learn something of mighty moment.

“Perhaps Ralph doesn’t want to tell,” said Gladys, but much interested and hoping nevertheless that Ralph would explain the mystery.

Ralph colored up quickly and was most uncomfortable. “Now, Tom,” he said, “this isn’t at all kind of you. I’m sorry I can’t talk about the matter but I’ll just say one thing, I did nothing then that I’ve since regretted or been ashamed of; and if it did result in a clean sleeve for me, why I’m satisfied. Please don’t ask me to say anything more about it.”

“Of course we won’t, Ralph,” said Gladys gently. “I’m sure you had a good reason for doing what you did. But I’m awfully sorry you are not a cadet officer just the same. I’m sure you ought to be.”

“Indeed he ought to be,” broke in Tom; “everybody in the class knows that, and Himski is dead right about the four stripes. They should have gone to Os by right, and it’s a matter of hard luck they didn’t. He’s got a clean sleeve, but everybody in the class knows he’s the best man in it. I’m awfully sorry, Os, indeed I am.”

“Thank you very much, all of you, for thinking of me so highly. Indeed I’m happy enough to have the right to wear the uniform. I never had the faintest notion of getting stripes and I’m not a bit disappointed.” Yet all the same, Ralph was secretly very happy with Himski’s remark and with the friendly comments of Bollup.

The end of September soon came and the two midshipmen prepared for their return to Annapolis. But before leaving it was decided that Gladys and her mother would be present at the graduation of these two classmates. Gladys was wild with delight at the prospect; she had heard of the glorious times girls have at the Annapolis June week. Dorothy was quite hurt; she didn’t see why she should not go with her mother and sister.

Who can tell of the last long walks in the dying sunlight and in the cool evening breezes of Ralph and Gladys? of what they said to each other, of the important thoughts they exchanged? Surely not you or me, Himski; and it wasn’t very important either, and must have been forgotten long ago. But on the morning they left Tom turned to his sister and said: “Gladys, I’ll try to get you a partner for our class german and for the graduating ball. Partners are scarce those times and girls are plenty, but I hope I’ll find you one,” to which Gladys instantly replied:

“Don’t you bother about getting a partner for me, Tom Bollup; don’t you worry a bit about that.” And then she colored up and blushed prettily, and it must be confessed that Ralph looked conscious and suddenly became much interested in some cirrus clouds in the far distance.

Bollup looked from one to the other and then gave a short, merry laugh, and said: “All right, sis, I won’t.”