"Yes, sir. And I think mother will be disappointed if you don't come—but I'll scoot down and get a note from her to say so. And Rose will cry out, 'Oh, dear!' and Violet will exclaim, 'Dear me!' At least," said Magnus, correcting himself, "it will be something like that. Even warped surfaces cannot always help a man to know just what a woman will say."
And Cadet Kindred stood back with the air of one who, having just sent a shell from the siege battery, and seen it hit the mark, feels that he deserves well of his country.
"Why 'warped surfaces'?" said Mr. Erskine, laughing up at the handsome young fellow, whom he loved next to his own daughter.
"Uncertain, sir. And incomprehensible. Greatest puzzle I know," said Magnus.
"Well," said his friend slowly, "you are a good persuader, Magnus. Cherry, you are going, of course."
"If you do, papa."
"Not else? Then I must try. I know you want to see all you can of your old playmate. It is better than letters, isn't it, love? I can tell you, Magnus, there was no keeping her at home letter day, no matter what the weather was."
If Cherry sighed inwardly, "Oh, papa!" she gave no sign.
"I am very happy to hear it, sir," said Magnus, in his stateliest tones. "It was beautiful filial devotion in Cherry. Of course she knew how anxious you were to know that, as yet, I was out of light prison. I hope she never took cold, or injured her health in any way, going out in all weathers to relieve your anxiety."
"Truly, it was not all for me," said Mr. Erskine. "Do you remember, love, the week when the track was snowed up? and the overdue letter that never came at all? Magnus, those were dark days. I believe Cherry went down to the other house six times between sunrise and sunset; and then when at last the mail-bag came, our letter did not."