"Yes!" said Mr. Bouché, who had been eyeing the girl much as she studied the landscape; "just what I was thinking." "It is like nothing I ever saw anywhere else," said Rose. "Nor I," assented her companion. "You see, I have never been just here before," said Rose, turning at the somewhat peculiar tone of voice. "Have you?" "I am not sure--that I have," said Mr. Bouché, considering with himself whether certain sensations in the region of his heart could possibly (in a cadet of such wide experience) mean something new. "It rather seems to me not. What are you going to lecture me about, Miss Rose?" "Nothing." "Oh, yes, you are!" cried Bouché, rousing up. "That's not fair. It is in the bond that you are to lecture." "Who signed the bond?" "I--for self and partner," said Bouché audaciously. "'Himself and he,'" said Rose, quoting Cowper. [Illustration: FLIRTATION] "Now, that is truly unkind," said Mr. Bouché, with an injured air; "and therefore not like you, Miss Rose. And people should always speak in character. I am surprised at you. Do you believe that I never think of anybody but myself?" "Oh, I suppose when you are speaking to me, you must be thinking of me a little," said Rose, a faint tinge coming into her cheeks as she made the admission. "Look at that eagle flying across the river." "Let him fly--" said Bouché. "You really suppose I think of you 'a little,' then? When it's week days and Sundays, Saturdays and common days. When the reveille gun has grown sweet to my ear, because----" "Now hush!" Rose interrupted him. "That is a good place to stop. Nothing ever yet made the reveille gun sound sweet to a cadet." "Other cadets." "Well, you are just another cadet," said Rose. Bouché burst into a laugh, in spite of his efforts to look tragic. "There," he said; "she's making fun of me. It's all up. I am only 'just another cadet.' One more in her train. Only so many additional bell buttons, and a pair of chevrons thrown in." "Who is the professor of nonsense here?" Rose demanded. "I never saw such proficients as you cadets are, in all my life. Have you had forty pages to learn? and are you trying them off on me? Very well recited, Mr. Bouché." "It isn't at all. You are getting off grinds on me the whole time, and that's not fair. I should think conscientious scruples would hinder you." "Conscientious scruples?" "Yes," said Bouché. "The way you throw away opportunities tries even my conscience. You see, Miss Rose, _I_ never had folks to stand round me and keep me straight. I've been a Topsy boy, all my life." "Topsy-turvy?" suggested Rose. Bouché drew a deep sigh. "There it goes again," he said; "I shall have to take it, I suppose. But I guess it's true. And now, when somebody has a chance to set me right, she don't do it." "What could she do?" Rose asked, seriously now. "For one thing, she could take a long, long walk with me on Sunday. Keep me out of mischief the whole afternoon."