"What would you answer if I did?" Cherry said diplomatically. This photograph in person was not easy to talk to.
"I should remark that I can always see some people, across the world. Then you must put your head on one side and say: 'But you know you have such eyes, Mr. Kindred!'"
"Well, I certainly shall not say that," Cherry declared, venturing a look.
"Magnus, you are a young peacock," said his mother.
"Fine feathers, mammy. How do you like West Point, Miss Reserve? Is this your first visit? Very warm, isn't it? What do think of our view?"
Oh, how they laughed at him, Cherry and all! Magnus kept a grave face.
"Will you walk with me after supper?" he went on. And Cherry's sweet eyes opened full on him, to see what he meant.
"That is not the way at all," said Magnus (approving it highly, all the same). "You must put your head on the other side now and say: 'Really, Mr. Kindred—he! he!—I'm awfully sorry—but I've given all my walks away.' Then I shall answer fiercely: 'Tell me one of the men, and I'll go fight him and get it back.' Now, Cherry, clasp your hands and say pleadingly: 'Oh, no! Please don't, Mr. Kindred! I remember now—there is one walk just before breakfast. Would that be too early for you?' And I answer practically: 'Nothing is too early for me, Miss Reserve, after you have opened your eyes.' And then you must give me an admiring glance and say: 'Oh, don't talk of my eyes, Mr. Kindred!' Then the drum-beats, and I double-time it into camp."
"You need not say 'you'—I should never say such things," Cherry declared; this vision of other girls acting as a tonic, though she laughed with the rest.
"Of course not! You do not say anything to me," retorted Magnus.