"Do forgive me, Robert," said Helen a little later, noticing how sober he had become. "I'm awfully sorry I called your attention to Mr. Stonewell; I know how devoted you are to your friends. Let's try and forget about it and be happy. We'll go into the woods and gather some violets and dogwood--the woods are so pretty now--full of moss and ferns--let's walk fast." Robert was cheered up a bit, and when they had finished their errand on Conduit Street they hastened to the woods. Leaving their troubles behind them, these young people were soon in a happy, merry mood. The woods were soon deep about them, and they drank deep breaths from the forest-perfumed air. Robert told Helen the great secret of his gun drill and the means he had taken to win the flag. "And, Helen, if my company wins it I am going to ask you to present it; if we win it that will be my privilege." Helen was enthusiastic, of course, for the greatest glory a girl ever wins at Annapolis is to be chosen to present the colors to the winning company. "You'll win it, I'm sure you will," she cried; and then, woman-like, she immediately became deeply pensive. "Why so quiet?" queried Robert. "Oh, I was thinking about what kind of a dress I shall wear, and I must have a new hat too,--I'm sure you'll win, Robert, just as sure as though it had really happened." Mr. Henry Bligh continued to lead, in a crowded community of light-hearted young men, a solitary life. He commenced to experience a certain kind of cruel pleasure in being the martyr he considered himself to be. Calm though he outwardly was his mind was in a continual ferment, with a direct result that he was never in a humor to study; naturally he did poorly in his daily recitations and worse in examinations. The time for the annual examinations was now near and Bligh knew he had but little hope of passing. Only by heroic effort could he hope to make a satisfactory mark for his final average and thus become a third classman. Bligh was in no mental state to make this required heroic effort. In fact it was practically certain that he would fail and be required to resign. One Saturday in the middle of May, Bligh went out in the city of Annapolis and walked around in an aimless way. He wandered in the State House grounds and finally sat down on an iron bench near the statue of Chief Justice Taney. After a few minutes he observed a young man approach on the walk that led by his bench. Bligh gave him a careless glance, and as the young man passed he happened to look at him again. And then a startling change came over Mr. Henry Bligh. His eyes seemed to bulge from their sockets; involuntarily he half arose from his seat; his breath came in quick gasps; he gave every evidence of complete amazement. Then he suddenly sank back, relaxed and gave himself over to uncontrolled merriment. "Oh, what a joke," he cried; "oh, my, oh, my!--who would believe it?"