Hope rules a land forever green:
All powers that serve the bright-eyed queen
Are confident and gay.
Clouds at her bidding disappear;
Points she to aught? The bliss draws near,
And fancy rules the way.
--WORDSWORTH.
That was a wonderful day. But it may be remarked, that Mr. Kindred went
home more than ever discontented with the length of the hill.
"Living up there," he said, "when we are all down here. It is too bad.
How many times a month does Cherry walk down here in the sun?"
"She need not walk in the sun," said the girls, laughing at him. "There
is shade all the way if she wants it. Why, she comes every day, you
foolish boy."
"At what hour, generally, you foolish girl?"
"Oh, all sorts of times," said Violet; "after breakfast, and before
dinner, and after tea. But they are both coming down to-day to dine
with us."
"I think I will just go up and make sure they understand that," said
Magnus. "Cherry does not always take up an idea as quick as she might."
And away he dashed out of the house and began to double-time it up the
hill, the three women at home watching from the window in admiring joy.
"He is the best looking fellow that ever was," said Rose. And the
mother answered as Cherry had done:
"Yes, but do not tell him so."
Then the girls laughed.
"Oh, mother," they cried, "you do it, every time you look at him."
Magnus meanwhile sped lightly up the hill. He had his reasons for
liking to go at this particular time; the picture yesterday was too
lovely for him not to long to see it again, and it might be that
Cherry read to her father every morning. Then what was the book?
Cherry had closed it so suddenly upon his coming, that he caught no
glimpse of the inside; but the outside stirred his curiosity. It was
an old book, bound in the dainty old-time vellum, once marked and
embossed with gold; but that was much faded and worn away. It did not
look like a Bible, and yet that, Magnus felt, was the correct thing
for Cherry--such a girl as she was--to be reading to her father at
breakfast time. Other people's duties are marked out in such very
distinct lines that even colour blindness is rarely doubtful over them.
But no murmur of voices met him, as he paused at the front door; and
something warned him to go quietly round the house to the steps that
ran down into the garden. And sure enough, he had his picture, but a
different one this time.
A little white-covered tray on the upper step held bread and milk and
berries, and on the step below sat Cherry, with a book in her lap. She
jumped up at the sound of his footfall, and put the book away, coming
back instantly to her place.
"Mr. Erskine out?" Magnus asked, as he took position at her feet.
"Oh, no, not out. It is one of the days when that old bullet wound
gives so much trouble that the best thing is to keep quite still."
"You don't read to him, such days?"
"He has had the reading--and he had his breakfast," said Cherry; "but
he made me come down and take mine in the fresh air."
"And instead of doing it, you fall to reading again," said Magnus,
reaching up his hand to the milk pitcher and filling her glass. "Please
to begin at once."
"Please to have some too, then. There are more strawberries on the
table inside."
"Two breakfasts to-day, against some other morning when I shall have
none," said Magnus. "What are you waiting for? Something else I should
get?" For Cherry sat lingering, and had not touched her spoon.
"Well?" Magnus repeated, watching her. He had a spoonful of berries on
the way to his mouth, and still her hands had not stirred.
"But Magnus--you haven't--will you ask the blessing?" Cherry said.
The berries came down with a rush.
"Go on," he said, with an odd change in his voice. And Cherry bent her
head and spoke the few sweet words as simply and gladly as if they were
but a breath of native air. Magnus was stirred more than he cared to
own.
"Heaven and earth come pretty close together where you are," he broke
out, eating his berries and forgetting the sugar.
"Where anybody is," said Cherry. "Heaven must be near when the Lord is
close by, 'with you,' and 'at your right hand.'"
She was all changed this morning; so quiet, so self-possessed.
"Well, you see," Magnus went on impulsively, "one gets out of practice.
I've not heard a blessing asked for two years, till I came home. Except
when mother and I had our picnic."
"Not in your Mess Hall?"
"Well, I should say not!"
"But, Magnus----"
"What?"
"You can always ask one silently for yourself."
Magnus gave a long groan.
"I believe your flag is sixty feet long," he said. "What do you suppose
the other three hundred men would say to me?"
"I do not know."
"Not care, I dare say. Well, to begin, they'd give me a silence, just
as like as not."
"A _what_?"
"A silence. That's what we give a Tac who oversteps bounds, or a
party of women who are brought in to see the animals feed. There's a
universal din up to that moment, and then every man drops his knife and
fork, stops his tongue, and looks. You don't know what silence means
till you've heard that."
"What a very queer custom! And that is what they might do to you? But
it could not last long, I suppose, because they would have to eat their
breakfast."
"No, it would not last long!" said Magnus ironically. "First Rig
begins: 'Hello, Kin! Most through? Lose your breakfast?' And Crane:
'Say, Kin! Come and bless what's left on our table.' And Crinkem would
yell: 'Shut up, and let him alone! He's praying for strength to eat the
steak.'"
The girl's colour flitted back and forth as he spoke; then her eyes
lighted up.
"It does not sound pleasant," she said; "but Magnus, if I were you, I
think I would try it."
"I don't doubt you would," said Magnus, thinking his own thoughts.
"Sixty feet long in all weathers. But Cerise, besides all that, there
isn't time. We have but just so many minutes for breakfast, anyhow; and
while I had my eyes shut, somebody else might get my roll. No great
gain, but still a loss."
"That would be very sad," said Cherry, with a comical smile. "But
then, you would enjoy the rest so much better. Magnus," she went on
seriously, "did you ever think how many faint-hearted Christians there
may be in the crowd who would take courage from you to do right?"
"And so help me face the silence?"
"It is grand to face wrong things for right reasons!" said Cherry, her
eyes like two opals, showing their hidden fire. "'And they departed
from the Council, rejoicing that they were counted worthy to suffer
shame for his name.'"
Magnus looked at her.
"Yes, talk to me," he said. "I want all the talking to I can get. But
I can tell you, Cerise--do you mind my calling you so?"--he broke off
abruptly.
"Why, no," the girl answered. "It does not sound quite natural."
"Not like old times--no, of course not. Well, would you like Chérie
better? I think I should," said Mr. Kindred, watching the pink tinges
with a delightful sense of having the reins in his own hands again. "It
is more closely descriptive, and just as good for my French."
"You are without question the most absurd boy this side of West Point!"
said Cherry. "Have you emptied your strawberry basket? I must put these
things away."
"We must, indeed," said Magnus, handling dishes and bearing them off
into the house. "You know I have come to take you back with me?"
"Have you! It might have been wise--not to say civil--to state that
before."
"But I don't want to go," said Magnus. "I'd rather have you all to
myself here."
"Well, will you please stop practising your favourite wave motion,
and keep out of my way?" said Cherry, much hindered in her progress by
finding Magnus before her at every turn.
"Haven't studied it yet,--so there. Now, Cherry, you surely did not
mind what I said about wave motion?"
"Why should I mind?"
"I mean what I said about women's not needing to learn it."
"If all the men understand it through and through, that might leave
the women free for other work," said Cherry critically, as if she were
weighing the case.
"Ah!" said Magnus; "now you are beginning to talk like yourself. I
haven't half known you since I came home. Tease away, ma Chérie."
"Magnus, don't you want to run upstairs and get papa's tray? He must be
done with it by this time."
"Why, of course," said Cadet Kindred. "Only--this is the second time
you have sent me to him,--and as I remarked the other night----"
"I declare!" Cherry exclaimed, giving him a good sight of the fire
sparks. But then she turned and darted away up some back staircase so
fleetly and softly that he could not even tell by which way she had
gone. And when the pursuer by ordinary routes had reached the room,
Cherry was in calm conversation with her father.
Mr. Erskine was sitting by the window, and certainly looked rather
surprised at the headlong style in which Magnus rushed in; but smiled
and shook hands very cordially.
"Cherry sent me to get your tray, sir," the young man explained; "and
she was so high-strung over my seeming hesitation that, after that, I
stumbled upstairs as fast as I could."
"I see--chaffing each other as usual," said Mr. Erskine.
"Papa," Cherry put in, safely ensconced now behind her father and her
work basket, "you must not believe one word these cadets say."
"These cadets!" Magnus retorted. "Please to be more personal in your
remarks. I stand up for the veracity of the Corps."
"And represent it, no doubt."
"I wonder who is wandering into fib-land now," said Magnus. "Mr.
Erskine, if you take her at her word, and never believe anything I say,
I shall live to see the day when, with tears in her eyes, she will
assure you of my perfect truth and reliability."
"Indeed you will not," said Cherry. "Unless you live to be a hundred
and ten."
Mr. Erskine laughed heartily. Just so had those two been sparring ever
since they were in leading strings; perfect inseparables, but never
together ten minutes without getting up a skirmish of some kind.
"I am sorry this is one of your bad days, sir," Magnus went on; "but
the sun is very bright, as you can see, sir, and the air is soft--you
can _feel_ that. I like to back up my words when I can. And perhaps you
will kindly take hold of my arm, sir, and judge if it is likely to give
way under the weight of your hand down the hill."
"All which means," said Mr. Erskine, "that I am expected by the dear
people down there?"
"Yes, sir. And I think mother will be disappointed if you don't
come--but I'll scoot down and get a note from her to say so. And Rose
will cry out, 'Oh, dear!' and Violet will exclaim, 'Dear me!' At
least," said Magnus, correcting himself, "it will be something like
that. Even warped surfaces cannot always help a man to know just what a
woman will say."
And Cadet Kindred stood back with the air of one who, having just sent
a shell from the siege battery, and seen it hit the mark, feels that he
deserves well of his country.
"Why 'warped surfaces'?" said Mr. Erskine, laughing up at the handsome
young fellow, whom he loved next to his own daughter.
"Uncertain, sir. And incomprehensible. Greatest puzzle I know," said
Magnus.
"Well," said his friend slowly, "you are a good persuader, Magnus.
Cherry, you are going, of course."
"If you do, papa."
"Not else? Then I must try. I know you want to see all you can of your
old playmate. It is better than letters, isn't it, love? I can tell
you, Magnus, there was no keeping her at home letter day, no matter
what the weather was."
If Cherry sighed inwardly, "Oh, papa!" she gave no sign.
"I am very happy to hear it, sir," said Magnus, in his stateliest
tones. "It was beautiful filial devotion in Cherry. Of course she knew
how anxious you were to know that, as yet, I was out of light prison. I
hope she never took cold, or injured her health in any way, going out
in all weathers to relieve your anxiety."
"Truly, it was not all for me," said Mr. Erskine. "Do you remember,
love, the week when the track was snowed up? and the overdue letter
that never came at all? Magnus, those were dark days. I believe Cherry
went down to the other house six times between sunrise and sunset; and
then when at last the mail-bag came, our letter did not."
"It was very beautiful of her to take so much trouble to quiet your
mind, sir," said Magnus, watching the swift, pulsating colour in
Cherry's fair cheek.
"Nay, I took very little of it to myself," said Mr. Erskine, going
calmly on, as men will, through they know not what. "My heart ached
for her that day when she came back with her pale face, and said so
patiently, 'We must wait till to-morrow, papa.' Then at night they all
came up here; and I had to say over everything I had ever known or
heard about trains, letters, and--boys. You ought to be a good fellow,
Magnus, with four such women-hearts watching over you."
"Yes, sir. Don't you think it might further the cause if they told me a
little more about it?" said Magnus, with an innocent face.
"Papa--he knows quite enough for his good," Cherry remonstrated.
"Yes, and he might not like to hear it all," Mr. Erskine went on, in
the same unconscious fashion. "Poor little girl! How her voice shook
when she began to read to me that morning!"
"What did she read, sir?" Magnus questioned, with an odd change in his
own.
"I think we were in the Revelation just then. Were we not, love?"
"Yes, papa,"--very low.
"Yes, I remember. 'The sea of glass,' and 'them that had gotten the
victory.' Cherry read it as if she was ready to have the time come."
"Papa!"--it was almost a cry. "Why will you go back and bring that all
up again? Cannot you find pleasanter things to tell him?"
"No, he cannot, and you know it very well," said Magnus decidedly.
"Leave fib-land to me. I wish you would show me the very chapter,
please, Mr. Erskine."
"Hand me the book--there it is, love, on my table."
"I'll bring you another, papa,--" and Cherry went swiftly to the next
room.
Magnus, however, had his own private reasons for thwarting her whenever
he could, if it was only in the choice of a book; and before she could
get back he had brought the other volume to Mr. Erskine.
"Papa, this is better," Cherry said, coming in; but Magnus shook his
head at her, and she silently came down to her seat again. Then came a
surprise.
Magnus had been so busy watching her that neither book had had much
notice. Now, as Mr. Erskine turned the leaves, saying: "Here, this is
the place," Magnus bent down over his friend's shoulder to look, and
behold! he could not read one word. It might be the Revelation--but it
was also Greek. At least, so he supposed.
"Well, which was the book she was reading from that day?" he said,
looking at Cherry, who now sat perfectly still, with the other
Testament in her lap and her hands folded upon it. And if it had not
been impossible, he would have thought she was biting her lips hard to
keep back a laugh.
"This is the very one," said Mr. Erskine, all unconscious. "She always
reads in this--we both like it better. It is worn on the outside,"
he went on, turning the book over and giving the vellum affectionate
touches, "but I like these old bindings, don't you? The time-stained
cover for the things which time can neither stain nor wear out. This
was the book and the place where she read that morning."
"I should like to hear her read it now," said Cadet Kindred, feeling
considerably dazed.
"Read it to him, love," said Mr. Erskine, giving the old book to her;
and without raising her eyes Cherry obeyed, but in tones so low, that
but for their clearness, the eager listener could hardly have caught
one word. Understand one word he did not.
"Magnificent, are they not?" said Mr. Erskine. "But the English version
holds its own," he added musingly.
"'And I saw, as it were, a sea of glass mingled with fire; and them
that had gotten the victory over the beast, and over his image, and
over his mark, and over the number of his name, stand on the sea of
glass, having the harps of God.'"
"Yes, that was it. You see, my boy, if you had indeed gotten the
victory, and passed on into the exceeding glory and the joy, it did not
so much matter if, for a little space, we broke our hearts down here."
It was a strange, wholesome ten minutes for Cadet Kindred; and I think
as he stood there looking down at Cherry, he took the measure of his
smallest storm flag more accurately than he had ever done before. In
fact he could hardly find it to measure, but seemed to hear the empty
halyards whipping against the staff. And that girl had been staying her
heart with the thought of his victory and crown!
"That was the first hard day," said Mr. Erskine; "and the letters did
not come for a week. What was our next reading, love? Magnus would like
to hear them all."
But now Cherry's answer burst forth:
"Papa--I cannot!"
The father's hand came tenderly on her head.
"That is too much to ask," he said. "Those days are better out of
sight. Go and get your hat, love, and we will try to reach our dear
friends down the hill. Poor little girl!" he said, as Cherry sprang
away; "it was a very hard time for her. And everybody looked to her for
comfort. Violet would come up and cry on her shoulder, and Rose would
beg her to go down and talk to your mother; and Cherry went and came,
and reasoned and hunted up possible causes, and cheered everybody but
herself. With a smile always ready, but pale as the winter sunshine.
You see the lines were down, so that we could not telegraph, and when
the first train broke through, even then there was no letter. She is a
brave heart."
"She is the very dearest girl in all the world!" Magnus said eagerly.
"About that," her father answered--"well, love, here you are. Now we
shall see what this brave young shoulder that is so ready to be useful,
can do."
"Then, as you will not need me, papa, I will run on ahead," and Cherry
slipped in among the trees, and was out of sight directly.