"No, they are not!" cried both the charming specimens then present. "And you shall not say that of Cherry. She is like nobody else—and nobody else is like her."
And privately, Magnus thought his own two sisters very unlike most other girls. With their fresh, unjaded faces, undoctored complexions, untrammelled feet and waists, and unspoiled minds, they made a wonderful sweet contrast to Miss Dashaway and Miss Flirt. Magnus had not known how his estimate of women had run down among the crowd till he found it mounting up again, ten degrees at a time.
Even Cherry's absenting herself—it provoked him heartily, and he felt himself much injured, but it was after all a refreshing change after Miss Dangleum's ways. Yes, demonstrations were the man's business, and in his present mood Magnus felt quite equal to them, could he but get hold of the right person.
No half-grown girl in half-long dresses appeared, however, as they reached the house, but for a few minutes Magnus had all he could manage. The old dog (prudently left at home) was nearly as wild over the meeting as his young master; jumped upon him, clung to him, danced round him, whimpered, whined, and barked for joy. It was not five minutes before the two were rolling down the grass slope together, then running a sharp race, and then flying all over the old house from room to room. Magnus shouldered his trunk and rushed upstairs with it, and Plato dashed after him, wakening all the echoes that were anywhere about. The two girls, putting rolls in the oven and setting on cream and butter, almost danced in their tiptoe joy; the mother in the small sitting-room hid her face in her hands, and cried and gave thanks. Just to hear that boy's step overhead, what was it like? And then to have the pair come racing down the old stairs when supper was ready, Plato barking in a perfect scream of delight;—do you wonder that the prayer for a blessing was spoken low and falteringly? or that a hush filled all the room for some moments thereafter?
Then the three busied themselves earnestly about their boy's supper, and the boy also lent his assistance; Plato lying on the floor and winking at him. The old dog was afraid to really go to sleep lest he should lose sight of his young master.
"I suppose her High Mightiness expects me to put on my war paint to-morrow, and to go and ca—ll," said Magnus, drawling out the last word with ridiculous intonation.
"Who? Cherry? Now, Magnus, you shall not call her that," said Rose.
"Shall not, hey? I will call her anything I like," said Magnus.
"Well, go on, then, and do it," cried Violet, with a laugh, "for here she is."
And in more confusion than he expected from himself, after this bravado, Cadet Kindred started up from the table and found himself face to face with his old playmate.