"I suppose studying straight lines must mean drawing," said Cherry, looking down at the open letter. "Magnus will not care what they do, if they will only let him draw."
"I am not so anxious about all that," said the mother thoughtfully. "Boys at school must have some hardships and do many things they do not like. And you see he does go to prayer-meeting and read the Bible."
"But he says such strange things," said Violet, studying the letter from her side. "Do all people in the East have names like that? 'Rig,' and 'Mean,' and 'Upright'—it sounds like the Pilgrim's Progress."
"And so it is," said the mother, smiling faintly, through two big teardrops, "and Magnus is going over a part of the road where we have never been. That must be, girls. But the Lord is as strong there as here in Barren Heights; and Magnus is no weaker than he was at home—bless his dear heart! He never could bear that word 'weak.' I wish he had told us what he means by 'a storm flag.'"
"Why, it must be a flag that flies in all weathers!" cried Cherry. "So strong that the wind cannot tear it, and so deep-coloured that the rain cannot wash it out."
Well for them all that she did not know enough to add, "And so small that it can hardly be seen."
But no such thought cast its dark shadow. Mrs. Kindred looked at the sweet eyes, all aglow with the spirit of the martyrs; the lips in a quiver, the cheeks in a flush; then took Cherry in her arms and kissed her.
"You are never anything but a blessing," she said, and went away to pour out tears and petitions in her own private room; with a heart-aching sense all the while that she wished some other boy had the glory and the brass buttons, and that her own Magnus was safe at home.
Meanwhile the girls in the porch talked on.
"I dare say you are right about the flag, Cherry," said Rose, "but there are other things I cannot understand."