Concerning what others thought, Grace was very speedily to learn. It is necessary to interrupt her thankful words, for just then an unpoetic attendant came into the room.
“Mr. Mallory,” said he, “there are some cadets outside who want to see you. The surgeon says that they may——”
“Send them in,” said Mark, weakly. And then he added to Grace, with a faint attempt at a smile: “I wonder if they want me to fight.”
Grace said nothing to that, but her eyes flashed for a moment. She had heard the story of how the cadets had treated Mark, and she had made up her mind that if they had anything more to say about cowardice she was going to take a hand. Grace Fuller had her own ideas on the subject of cowards.
The cadets entered the room a moment later, and when Mark glanced at them he started with no little surprise. It was the committee from the first class, the same committee that had been taunting him a few days previously.
“Well, gentlemen?” said Mark, inquiringly.
Evidently the cadets had an embarrassing task before them. They had sidled into the room rather awkwardly, all the more so when they espied Grace Fuller’s beautiful face, which was all the more beautiful for its present paleness.
Once in the room they had backed up against the wall, eying the two uneasily.
“Ahem!” said the spokesman.
“Well?” inquired Mark again.