A very busy six months followed first-class camp; the autumn full of drills and study, the winter of examination, hard work, and the Hundredth Night. With the opening spring poured in the usual flood of tradesmen and their wares; company drills began, early visitors came, and June was coming. The lower classmen, as usual, were on tiptoe with glee and excitement; and, also as usual, were the ballasting thoughts in many a first-class head. Questions of regiments, of posts, and of girls.

But for Charlemagne Kindred all that was settled. If he were ordered to the North Pole, and stationed on the tip end of it, he should still take Cherry. And if he could not keep the wind from roughening her soft hair, Lieutenant Kindred would be a much more incompetent person than Cadet Charlemagne thought possible. Cherry was just the girl for Arctic regions; she would sketch the icebergs, sing to the seals, and teach them Greek. And in the long evenings by their driftwood fire, they could plan out where to live when he wore three stars on his shoulder, and was retired on full pay for special services as yet unknown. A little soon for that, to be sure; but there is no harm in being beforehand, even "quite some," as they say in New Jersey. They could draw plans for the house, and so save on architects when the time came.

Other big questions came up for other men. Should this one assume at once the debt which the dear home people shouldered so patiently to send him to West Point? And how much can this other save from his slender pay, to help educate his young brothers and sisters? It touches one's heart to see the dainty articles of dress that are bought for the girls at home, whose life has been chiefly homespun.

Then what work will they find to do at the strange, far-away posts? Work in that other army to which, as boys, they were mustered in? For there are many church members in the corps; and I doubt if there is one to whom the old vows do not come up in mind before graduation. Sometimes, perhaps, with a never-so-keen perception of what Paul meant when he said: "I have finished my course; I have kept the faith." Paul could have claimed the lower honours too; learned, skilled, an acute theologian, a matchless writer. But no earthly plaudits were in his thoughts; only the Lord's "Well done"; the crown which those Royal hands would give him "at that day."

The spring flew on, tossing off its freight of snowdrops, violets, columbine, and apple blossoms. Twenty-three days to June, twenty-two days; then came more tidings.

Mr. Erskine was failing, so the mother wrote; failing steadily and fast. It was doubtful if Magnus would see his friend again; and the young cadet's heart went out with a great yearning to the lonely girl of whom he would so soon be the chief earthly protector. And once again Magnus gave thanks for that grace which had brought him through the fire, and made him fit to take such a charge. But none of them could come for graduation.

"Of course we cannot leave Cherry," so Violet wrote; "one of us is up there all the time. Cherry looks like a white wind-flower. O, Magnus, I wish you were here!" And Magnus gave a groan and turned to his tally: twenty-one days to June.

But he did what he could. He wrote Cherry a letter every day, saying everything he could to beguile her thoughts. He sent the last picture of himself, and the class picture, and a photograph of the up-river view. In every letter went his marks for the day, with what bits of mischief or of news the Post could furnish. He told what girls he had walked with, and of his rambles alone; giving her much to read and to talk of. With all this he studied untiringly, refused invitations, went up in his marks, and was often fagged enough when tattoo beat; but less with the work than with excitement and tension.

He had applied for a regiment not then near San Carlos; but so much depended upon how many men went to Willet's Point that he could guess little as to his own placing. One thing was sure, he was learning fast. Lessons of patience, of self-control, of trust; so winning true promotion, day by day. Finding out also, with new understanding, the exceeding helpfulness of prayer; learning to lay down cares and questions at the feet of that blessed Lord Jesus who "doeth all things well." Rank and post, life and death, could safely be left with Him! A great peace and a great strength were in the face of Magnus Kindred in those days.

If he seemed graver than usual, it was that with every chance his thoughts flew away. Or, rather, were some of them always in that far-off sick-room. For whoever else might be with her, Magnus knew, unerringly, how Cherry's heart reached out for him. How, in every hard moment, with every new token of the coming sorrow, the longing for him leaped up and grew. Sometimes it made him almost desperate enough to go, at all risks.

As a last comfort to himself and to her, Magnus took off his class ring and expressed it on, bidding her wear it till he came to put another in its place. She would not take it last summer, but she must now. And there was no telling what that ring was to the girl, and to her father as well, making the bond so tangible and real. Cherry studied it in her lonely night watches, and Mr. Erskine's heart gave thanks at every gleam of the stone as her hands' sweet ministry came about him. While far away, Magnus, on his part, was verifying and honouring all their trust.

So came on June, with her rose-trimmed slippers; and it seemed that first summer afternoon as if the whole countryside poured down upon West Point. Long before four o'clock the seats were full, then crowded; the wagon-load of campstools vanished as they came; and soon even standing-room was at a premium. And when the Board of Visitors had reviewed the Corps, and the Corps the Board, everybody who had the right crowded in to the reception, while the left-out throng whirled round with one accord, and sat staring with all its eyes at the open door and solid front of the Superintendent's quarters. If only X-rays had been on hand! The interest grew to a keen point when the first class (all together then, though now they go scattering in) passed through the gate, doffed their plumed hats, and vanished within the doorway.

Magnus was claimed by old friends and presented to new, had a great grip of Mr. Wayne's hand, and brought little Miss Bee a plate of lobster salad deeply bordered with sunshine.

I think Cadet Charlemagne had learned a little more about girls than he once knew; and the light and colour that came into this particular shy face at sight of him, smote him with a sense of at least possible past mistakes. She had no need to think so much of his small civilities. And Mr. Kindred bowed himself away, and made merry in a gauzy circle of colours near by. And then, when Miss Bee looked so left out in the cold, Magnus rushed up again, took her plate, brought her an ice, and made things worse than ever. Manlike, he thought the fast-and-loose plan worked to admiration. Now privately, Miss Bee cared nothing for lobster and very little for ice; but it felt so good to be noticed and to have something to do, that I think she hardly knew what she had. And had not Mr. Kindred said the ice would "refresh" her? So she ate a little, played with it a little, and heard, nolens-volens, a good deal of talk.

"Why, here is Mr. Kindred!" said one of his Christmas friends. "All on tiptoe for shoulder-straps."

"Mr. Kindred has small occasion to stand on 'tiptoe' for anything," said Miss Lane. "But what have you done with your beautiful class ring? Not lost it?"

"Hardly, since I know where it is. Lost things are said to keep cool company in the moon."

"What is keeping company with your ring?" said Miss Saucy. "Your heart, of course?"

"Of course."

"Will she be here for the hop?"

"Since when were hearts feminine? No, I do not think 'she' will," said Magnus. "Hearts are best at home, hop nights."

The talk went on, the crowd drifted; and little Miss Bee in her corner held her plate and ate her ice, and tasted nothing. Of course, she had seen that the ring was missing; but then no girl had boasted its possession. And men took whims.

What tales dark corners could tell; of hard-pressed fights, of struggles, of victory! The band played, the throng increased—then began to thin out. Presently Magnus came and took the plate from the weary fingers, asking if she would have anything more.

"No, nothing," she assured him with a smile. But something in the smile and its quiet patience, made him dart over to the table and fetch a handful of the gayest bonbons and mottoes, and bestow them in Miss Bee's own hands. A man's blunder, again! And yet perhaps not. Of course the sweets were not eaten; they were conveyed away and stored among Miss Bee's few chiefest treasures; but I think in time they became a comfort, too; shining tokens of what a friend she had had in one of the foremost men of the Corps. It could not be helped that this put other men at a discount.

For the ten days that followed no one saw much of Cadet Kindred, in any of those between-times that he could call his own. West Point outlines had cast their lovely spell about him; and with every chance he was down by the river, up among the rocks; climbing the leafy ways; saying good-bye, and then coming back to say it again.