In some of the quieter moments before the charge, Rose and Violet had picked out two or three men they knew, noting their horses (they were not all dark then); and now, even in that dusty whirlwind, the grey and the black could be seen and followed. And--yes, certainly--Mr. Trueman's horse has leaped the Hotel fence, and the plucky rider puts him at it again, and comes bounding back. And Mr. Clinker's steed has swerved at the crossroad and gone dashing along towards Trophy Point, for freedom and Highland Falls. However, he missed in both, and everything came out right, and nobody was hurt; and the drill was pronounced in every way first-class. But for days after, when Violet shut her eyes, she seemed to see the flashing sabres, and hear again the ringing shout; and to watch that particular grey horse as he leaped the hedge. Then came graduation; and Violet had the first sight of Mr. Trueman's diploma, as soon as he could step aside and show it. And Magnus was made first captain, and Mr. Bouché shone forth as adjutant; and even Mr. McLean found his arm adorned with three bright bars, to his own astonishment. "All owing to Kin," he confided to the two sisters. "If he hadn't pinched me black and blue every day since Christmas, I should be on my way back to Kansas, to hoe potatoes for the rest of my life." It may be said, in passing, that Mr. Trueman lingered at the post for a few days in "cits," and finally departed with a permit to show himself in the Western home, and plead his own cause there. Mrs. Ironwood lingered, too, even longer, to let her charge have a taste of the pretty concerts and guard-mounting in camp; and then the girls packed their trunk, and saw the hills fade away in a mist that was all in their own eyes. LI THE HOME-STRETCH A gold fringe on the purpling hem Of hills the river runs, As down its long green valley falls The last of summer suns. Along its tawny gravel bed Broad-flowing, swift, and still, As if its meadow-levels felt The hurry of the hill, Noiseless between its banks of green From curve to curve it slips; The drowsy maple shadows rest Like fingers on its lips. --WHITTIER. To come down from two girls of your own to none, is a long step; and I think if ever Cadet Charlemagne was ready to put the full value on the many fair and gay women at the Point, it was just then, when his sisters had gone. Not another sight of his own to be hoped for till a whole long year should roll away. First-class camp though it was, I think he would have liked the busy term-time better.