“Why, Tom,” exclaimed the observant Dorothy, “I thought you had four stripes and Ralph had a clean sleeve; how is this? Ralph seems to have the four stripes and you haven’t anything.”
Bollup colored and looked uneasy but was saved by Ralph.
“Why, Dorothy,” he quickly said, “you know what great friends Tom and I are; well, he’s generous, and one time, much to my surprise, he handed them over to me. I guess he got tired of them and thought I might like to have them for a while.”
“Well, I should have thought you wouldn’t have taken more than two of them,” pouted Dorothy; “I think you were greedy.”
Mrs. Bollup was delighted with this additional evidence of her son’s generosity. “It’s just like Tom,” she said.
Graduation week was and probably always will be, the most glorious period of Ralph Osborn’s life. It takes vicissitudes to enable one to appreciate triumphs, and of both of these Ralph had had full measure. From the depths of anxiety and misfortune he had viewed what he had believed to be unattainable heights of happiness. And now, on the eve of his graduation, he had attained to the pinnacle of all that was possible to a midshipman.
Every day the midshipmen were drilled in one way or another for the Board of Visitors, and every afternoon the battalion was drilled at dress parade. In all of these the cadet lieutenant-commander was a very important figure and Ralph enjoyed this importance.
He acted as the escort of Gladys, both to his class german and to his graduation ball. They were full of excited happiness and I judge had a never ending lot of things to tell one another, though what it was all about I never knew.
Gladys, dressed in white, was to Ralph the most beautiful vision he had ever seen.