"Do not tell him that," Cherry answered with discretion. She would have given a ready enough answer a week ago, but somehow, with the continent no more between them, the young damsel had grown wary.
"I'm afraid everybody else will tell him," said Rose. "But he is not spoiled a bit yet. Don't you think so?"
"Not a bit."
It was a very mild way of giving her estimate, and Cherry scolded herself that she could not answer freely, as she had always done; called herself to account for the shyness which had sprung into life with, indeed, the very first coming of that photograph.
"I am such a goose!" poor Cherry thought, bending down low over the lettuce basket. "What shall I do to myself? If only he had not acted so last night!"
And just here, by way of composing matters, two hands came softly round her head, and were laid lightly and respectfully upon her eyes. It was one of his old teasing ways with her.
Cherry's start passed almost into a tremor. She put up her hands to remove the obstruction, and they were taken and held fast; and what more Magnus might have dared had there been no witnesses, will never be known.
Cherry lifted her face, trying to speak sternly.
"Magnus," she said, "you have not improved one bit. I thought West Point was to make a man of you—or a better man—or something."
"It has made 'something' of me," he retorted, gazing down at her. "Give you three guesses."