"Of all the 'some days' for being useful, I have ever found to-day the very best. Sit down and give an account of yourself. Let the cloth wait, Cherry. I suppose you want to hear it all, too. Unless you heard it last night." "No, indeed, sir," said Magnus. "I did not have a chance to tell her half." This with a glance at Cherry, which she did not mean to see. "Papa," she said, "it will take but a minute to finish the table, and then we can listen so much better." "Have your own way, love," her father answered, smiling. "My dear love!" he said under his breath, watching her. Then he turned to Magnus. "Of course we know a good deal about you," he said, "for we have read and reread your letters, but I think I can understand them better now. And so these are the famous bell buttons?" "Yes, sir, the regulation sort." "Truly, they are pretty bright," said Mr. Erskine, with an amused smile. "Are the coats still pocketless?" Cadet Kindred disclosed the hiding place of his handkerchief. "I should call that hard lines," said Mr. Erskine. "Your mother gave us a description when she came home, and I rather think Cherry cried over it. 'What _will_ Magnus do without pockets?' she said. 'Because, you know, papa, if there was ever anything he did _not_ have in his pocket, it was only what he could not find.' Do you remember, love?" "Papa," said Cherry, much abashed at both the story and the laugh it brought, "I think it is enough to have said silly things without having them repeated." She fetched her work basket, and placing herself at the other side of her father, took out some bit of white stuff, and began to fold and hem with great speed and dexterity. Magnus watched her, wishing it were something for him. He had now and then seen a girl with a crochet needle in these two years, or straining her eyes over a piece of mussed unhappy looking drawnwork, but everything about Cherry and her basket was as fresh as the morning. Her strip of muslin might have just come from the shop, and have gone straight back there again, for all the disturbance it had from her neat handling. "Yes, she's a busy child," said Mr. Erskine fondly, noting where the eyes were bent; "busy and sweet as the day is long. But come, Magnus, draw up your chair, and let us have the story. Of course, as I said, we have heard a great deal, but we want the whole thing now, don't we, love? Do you wear all that finery every day?" "Yes sir, except when nobody is supposed to see us. We have an ugly, comfortable blouse for study, and meals, and recitations. With fatigue suits, of course, for drills." "Look your worst at recitations, hey? I should think it good policy to look your best." "Wouldn't make any difference with those old buffers," said Magnus. "They don't care if you fess perfectly frigid. They'd just as soon give you zero as anything else." Mr. Erskine's mouth took on a quizzical look.