"There are quite a number of people out there," said Violet.
"And one can visit, even on a prairie," said Miss Cray politely. "But it seems so odd."
Perhaps for a freer discussion of the oddity of things, that party moved away, and Mrs. Ironwood came back to her charge. But social duties still claimed her to such a degree that she hardly looked at the review, and not at all at the girls, for a good while. Then in some moment of silence, a soft, long-drawn breath made her turn her head.
The cadets were just passing, double-timing round the square, and the good lady saw that her two girls had hold of hands, and that the eyes of both were full. What about? Only for one particular dress coat with a white cross-belt, one particular pair of shoes that darted past; the owner whereof was so far from feeling himself a hero that he was just pronouncing under breath the whole review a mean contrivance to keep men out in the sun. Ah, young brothers! have you any faint vision of what your sisters see in you?
"Pull up your wraps, girls," said Mrs. Congressman. "It turns cool here, the minute the sun drops behind the hill. And I suppose wild horses wouldn't get you away before parade. Well, they'll have dealings with that man."
The end of the battalion was just passing, one single cadet officer bringing up the rear; and this man's sash had come untied. And as he darted on, one long red streamer trailed gracefully behind him; too heavy to float, unless with more wind astir.
The girls were in fits of merriment; only our two girls looked grave.
"Just think!" whispered Rose; "it might have been Magnus."
"But why doesn't he stop and tie it up?" said Violet.
"Stop and tie it up?" said Mrs. Congressman, who caught the words. "Why, if his head was off, he couldn't stop to put it on. Not in a review."