"But they don't leave us time for anything like that," Magnus thought, in half excuse. "It takes so long just to _be_; to look after your own prayers and reading. There isn't any chance to _do_." And now he remembered the lovely, constant shining of Cherry's life in even the commonest, everyday things; the halo that was always about her. Set her at any sort of work, in any sort of company, and you could never doubt for a moment whose she was and whom she served. The King's seal was there. Such a life is positive, by its very nature. "But then she is like nobody else," Magnus went on, as his rapturous thoughts finished off with a long, heavy sigh. "And she has a little space to breathe in, too. But here--just math. and chem., study and drill, from dawn to dark." Then other words came up before his eyes. "Whatsoever ye do, do it heartily; as to the Lord, and not to men." "Whatsoever ye do, in word or deed, do all in the name of the Lord Jesus." "Even those old lessons," commented Cadet Kindred. "I rather suspect I've been setting my study books at the wrong angle. I know Cherry says that drudgery fades out, if you write the name of Jesus on it. Wonder if it would work so with anybody but her?" And a long, dull procession of days rose up in sight; each one loaded down with hard, monotonous work. Not prettily varied, with one day this and next day that, but a steady, straight on pull in the same lines, for weeks together. "And we can't turn and twist about as you do, old flag," he said, "but have got to stand attention (or sit it) every time. It would feel sort o' good, if we could just choose our own positions for firing off blunders." "Whatever in the world are _you_ holding up the flagstaff for?" said Rig's astonished voice, as that young man came up from among the guns. "Beastly dull here, isn't it? I say, Kin, when's that awfully pretty sister of yours coming?" "Which one?" "Well, both, then," corrected Rig. "After you graduate--if you ever do." "You may well say if. But you'll be gone yourself, then." "Maybe I shall not let them come at all. There are too many girls here now." And Magnus cast cynical eyes towards several free-and-easy damsels who were sauntering across the plain, well attended. "There they go," he said; "men and girls and parasols. And the parasols are the only things in the lot with a grain of sense. Just hear that pink girl laugh! She's got Duncy in tow, telling him: 'Oh, Mr. Duncy! you are _so_ amusing!'" "Shouldn't wonder if she wasn't. I think he is, sometimes, myself," said Rig. "He is a consistent goose," said Magnus. "Come, now, Kin, you're out of humour," Rig said soothingly. "You'll feel better after dinner." "No I shall not," Magnus answered crossly. "Last Thursday I had chicken pie and apple fritters." Rig gave a groan. "Well," he said, "it can't be helped, so eat all you can. And there goes the drum."