But whoever succeeded in driving the moth away from the candle? Magnus was fain to content himself with remembering that on most singed human moths, wings grow anew very fast.

Miss Curry welcomed Mr. Trent's advances with a gracious smile, but she by no means let go her hold of Rig; and Rig had perfectly lost his head. The girl might flout him five times a day, and these cool applications did but heighten the fever.

From the middle of April on, there was pretty steady "cadet weather." Whatever the dawn may threaten, it always clears off in time for drill, except on Saturdays, when the order is reversed, and the rain sets in with double force just as the hours of freedom begin.

Rain did not hinder some men. Magnus rather enjoyed wrapping himself in his long grey coat and stalking off into the gloom and the fog. The hills were so lovely in their misty caps, the air so laden with spring sweets: spice bush and trillium, black birch and dogwood and azalia, and all the leaf buds just bursting their varnished sheath. How fragrant the pines were! and the cedars and hemlocks: how dainty the small clouds of wayfaring birds just come to spend the night. And in another month his birds of passage would be here, and the air full of their voices. Sometimes when Magnus thought of it, the excitement half made him wild; and he would set off for a sharp run up the hill, or a one-sided leap-frog among the rocks. Then he would throw himself down on the moss and hold his head and think. Or he took a squirrel track to the top of a tall tree and shouted (not too loud) and waved his cap to the passing trains, and saluted the old flag.

The Point filled up fast with candidates; and as Magnus looked at them, he did not much wonder at the glances which had once been cast on him. He found a slight touch of contempt the easiest thing in the world to creep in. A host of these sombre drones seeking something to do, a swarm of gay butterflies demanding only honey; what a motley crowd it made.

Even Magnus was drawn in by the honey-seekers; and took Miss Freak a walk after trailing arbutus, because she asked him so sweetly; and indeed himself asked some other girls to go here or there. And, of course, being a cadet, he said pretty things and made himself agreeable, though never beyond certain limits (N. B. I do not mean cadet limits, this time). As Miss Freak said, with her charming frankness:

"He never gives you anything to think of at night, when you get your back hair down."

But in spite of that small drawback, Mr. Kindred had his full share of what Mr. Clinker facetiously termed "drilling the Light Battery."

Some very pleasant and sensible girls came to the Point that spring; and in the great longing for sweeter tones than those of the average cadet, Magnus was ready enough to make acquaintance and take walks. And the girl generally declared: "It has been most delightful." Only when one gauzy creature looked up at him and said:

"Isn't it strange? You know I've always wanted to live at an army post—but I'm not engaged yet,"—then Cadet Kindred grew silent, and as soon as possible resigned in favour of Mr. Clinker.

So the hope-gilded days flew on: but with the end of May came a check.

Magnus got back from a long walk, to find two letters on his table. I know it is the correct thing for hero and heroine to "tear open" their letters, but Magnus cut his as carefully as if the very envelope might hold its quota of words.

"Dear Magnus," so the clear handwriting began, "I am afraid—no, I suppose I hope—that you will be very sorry. For I cannot go East with Mrs. Kindred and the girls."

And here, truth compels me to say, Cadet Kindred threw down the letter, and stamped about the room in a small tempest of displeasure.

"What's up?" queried Rig, who had noted the postmark. "Hasn't gone back on you, has she?"

For which harmless suggestion, Magnus promptly tumbled the offender out of his chair, and left him to pick himself up.

"I say! Steady on that, you know," commented Mr. McLean. "Girls are plenty; but where will you find a friend like me?"

"That was a beastly insinuation!" said Magnus in hot wrath.

"Was it? Girls are all alike, old boy." And Rig heaved a sigh.

"They're not! And this isn't what you mean by a girl. It's a—a——"

"An angel, perhaps," said Rig. "Then allow me to inquire what business you have to be rattled, with anything an angel sees fit to do."

"Rig," said Magnus seriously, pausing before him, "do you know whereabouts we are in barracks?" "Second floor, first div.," Rig answered.

"Well, you can have a chance to measure the breadth of the window, and the depth to the ground, just as soon as you want it."

"Thanks, I'm sure," said Mr. McLean. "At this moment, I am hard at work on the problem of your temper, minus your common sense. What does the letter say?"

"Don't know yet," said Magnus. "I've only read three lines."

Rig looked at him, and then gathering up his own books, he carried them over to the cold steam pipes, laid them down, and perched himself at one end.

"You must excuse me," he said; "you are so plainly insane, that a due regard to my personal safety brings about this temporary coolness. 'Distance lends enchantment'—but you are more irresistible near by."

Magnus flung back into his chair again, with a half groan, and took up the letter. If it had been release from quarters he would have gone to Fort Put for the reading.

"Cannot come East!" he muttered to himself. "What's the use of reading on? She will not—and that's just where it is." And yet he read.

"Papa is not strong this spring; not at all able for the journey; and I cannot leave him alone. He says 'Go'—but I cannot, Magnus. Not this year." ("Bless her for that!") Magnus interlined. "But the girls are to see everything, and remember everything, and tell it all to me; and maybe when you graduate we can all be there."

"I think I will not write any more to-day, because I cannot talk of anything but this; and it is not best to say too much. But we are fighting in the same field, Magnus, even if we are out of sight of each other, and we get our orders from the same King. How I have thought over and over, the seeing you at parade! I felt sure I could always pick you out from all the three hundred. Good-bye.—Your Cherry."

It was well for Magnus that he had little time to brood over his disappointment. June was near at hand, some few "planks" of the Board of Visitors already arriving, and some last study to be done.

"You bone straight on through the year," Randolph said to him one day. "Why, in life, man, don't you let up, now and then?"

"I'm after another bone," Magnus answered him. But he did not say that when the "standing" roll came to the hand he loved best, her eyes must find the name of Charlemagne Kindred as high as it could possibly be.

"Just as high as I can put it," he told himself, with a fresh rush at everything. For faith does not spoil a man, nor holy living mar his scholarship.

So Magnus studied, and played tennis, and ran races; did exploits on the poles and ropes, and threw everybody who dared wrestle with him; won his marks, kept his chevrons, and did not lose his popularity.

But disappointments are said to hunt in couples. The next week after Cherry's letter of bad news, came one from Mrs. Kindred, with addition to the same. For she, too, must stay at home.

"Cherry wants my help in every way," wrote the mother. "I must stay with her. And it is really better, dear, on all accounts. For if I live till next June, I must go then to see you graduate,—and two such journeys cost."

Magnus sat back in great gloom, and declared that June was "fizzling out."

"I suppose the next word will be that Viola and Rose have some sort of a previous at the North Pole," he said.