As the last words died away upon the still night air, she hastily snatched from a vase near by, the flowers she had been wearing, softly opened her window and, with one quick sweep of her arm, dropped them directly at the feet of the tallest singer. He stooped a moment to gather them up from the snow, then bowed low in acknowledgment, as the four voices took up the sadder, sweeter melody of the “Soldier’s Farewell.”
That was all: only a school-boy frolic, and three, at least, of the singers had no more thought of sentiment than they would have done in listening to the band on parade. But if it were all child’s play, why did Dorothy’s fair face grow suddenly wistful, under cover of the darkness, as she watched them move away down the road; and why was she conscious of her heart’s giving a quick throb of pleasure, when she saw the tallest cadet slacken his pace and stretch out a hand to help support his shorter comrade, as he limped slowly along over the slippery crust? What a true knight he was, she said to herself; and then felt the hot blood rush to her cheeks, at the thought of that unqualified pronoun, “He.”
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.