Two or three minutes later a middle-aged woman came slowly down the staircase, gazing about her. At last her glance settled, with some bewilderment on Dick and Greg, who were the only two cadets in the corridor.
"Why, I believe you must be Mr. Prescott and Mr. Holmes!" exclaimed Mrs. Bentley, moving forward and holding out both hands. "Yes; I am certain of it," she added, as Dick and Greg, bowing gracefully from the waistline, smiled goodhumoredly. "Mercy! But how you boys have grown! I am not sure that it is even proper to call you boys any longer."
"If we were boys any longer, Mrs. Bentley, I am sure you would be in doubt," laughed Dick easily. "Yes; you see, cadets, under their training here, usually do shoot up in the air. We have some short, runty cadets, however."
Just then there was a flutter and a swish on the stairs. Laura
Bentley and Belle Meade came gliding forward, their eyes shining.
"Yes; I know you both and could tell you apart," cried Laura, laughing, as she held out her hand. "But what a tremendous change!"
"Do you think it is a change for the better?" asked Dick, smiling.
"Oh, I am sure that it is. Isn't it, Belle? A how wonderfully glad I am to see you both again."
Dick gazed at Laura with pride. He had no right to feel proud, except that she was from Gridley, and that she had come all the way to West Point to see him in his new life.
Laura Bentley, too, had changed somewhat, though not so much as had her cadet friends. She was but a shade taller, somewhat rounder, and much more womanly in an undefinable way. She was sweeter looking in all ways—-Dick recognized that much at a glance. Her eyes rested upon him, and then more briefly upon Greg, in utter friendliness free from coquetry.
"Can't you get excused and take us over to dress parade?" asked
Belle.