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."