True to their promise made to Leon in the holidays, Mrs. Arnold and Dorothy had come up to Hilton for a week, and Dorothy was holding high carnival among the cadets. Captivated from the first by her pretty face and dainty gowns, the boys had besieged Harry with requests for introductions; and the acquaintance, once begun, was followed up eagerly, as they came to know more of her. Her frank liking for them all, and her evident enjoyment of the little entertainments they prepared for her, quite won their hearts, and Dorothy soon had the Wilders at her feet, while Frank Osborn, to Harry’s great disgust, insisted upon lavishing on her the countless little attentions, which he knew so well how to render acceptable to a young and charming girl.
Mrs. Arnold was a model chaperon, and Dorothy enjoyed the week to the utmost, entering into all the frolics with a heartiness which was, however, never quite so apparent as when Alex was included in them. There were grand coasting parties in the clear, cold starlight, when Mrs. Flemming and Mrs. Arnold were each the centre of a little group whose members had been too late to carry off Dorothy instead; there were long hours of skating, on the little pond at the foot of the hill; there was the daily expedition to the armory with Leon, to watch the drill which was now in charge of Adjutant Sterne, while Lieutenant Wilde was still confined to the house, as a result of his accident; and there were impromptu spreads and euchre parties in the different rooms, after evening study-hour. Day by day, Harry was becoming more and more proud of his sister, while Alex and Paul and Louis and Jack and a dozen more were eagerly contending for her smiles.
The last evening of the visit was to be given up to a dinner at the doctor’s, although Mrs. Flemming had said, rather apologetically, as she invited her guests,—
“I’m afraid we’re hardly in good order for company. My nephew will be able to be down-stairs, but he doesn’t sit up much yet. Still, if you can excuse his lack of manners, we shall all enjoy your being with us.”
It was a pleasant, informal evening, and when Harry, and Alex came to take the guests home, they found Dorothy sitting by the sofa, chattering gayly with Lieutenant Wilde, who looked very handsome and manly, in spite of his undress uniform, and a most undignified strip of plaster running down his left cheek. It was the first time the boys had seen him since his accident and, made to feel at home by Mrs. Flemming’s cordial welcome, and her assurances that it was too early for her company to break up, they established themselves by the sofa, full of boyish solicitude for his health, and eager questions as to his getting out among them again.
Quite too soon the evening was over, and Dorothy found herself bidding her hostess good night, then going out into the clear, frosty air, with Alex at her side. They walked on in silence for a little way, then Dorothy said enthusiastically,—
“Such a pleasant evening! It has been a fit ending to our visit here.”
“How did you like Lieutenant Wilde?” asked Alex. “Had you seen him before to-night?”
“No; this was my first glimpse of him, and I don’t wonder that he’s Hal’s hero. He’s every inch a man and a soldier. But do you know, Mr. Sterne,” she added, with a laugh, “I’ve become so used to uniforms, since I came up here, that I shall find it very hard to see nothing but plain black coats, when I go home. You’ve all done so much to make me have a good time, that you have quite spoiled me.”
“We have the worst of it,” Alex assured her. “We have to settle down now for two months of steady grind, without the prospect of seeing a soul outside the school, till the Easter holidays. Your being here has been a perfect blessing to us; I only wish it hadn’t been quite so short.”