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a little gathering, and what the papers call an "ovation," about the young graduate, who was blushing not a little through his healthy tan. He was quite unable to hear where his classmates had been distributed in the other regiments of cavalry and infantry, and he was anxious to know, but even when the line of cadet officers came marching to the front and stood at salute before the battalion commander, and then broke ranks, and as many as a dozen made a rush at their former first captain, eager to take him by the hand and say a word of congratulation before they went bounding away to doff dress hats, plumes, and sashes--even then Graham could not see the order, for Colonel Hazzard called for it to show to a bevy of bright-eyed girls, who knew the graduating class, now scattered all over the United States, knew almost every one of them better than they did this, their foremost cadet officer, for George Graham, though he could dance, had seemed to care little for hops and less for girls. His few leisure hours of the last year at the Point he had spent at the side of his mother.
But at last, leaving Mrs. Frazier and Benny at camp, the Grahams were walking slowly homeward in the wake of the brave young battalion, marching away with its quick, elastic stride to the spirited music of the fifes and drums. Lieutenant McCrea was still with them, while Lieutenant Wood, another family friend, had taken to the telegraph office Geordie's pencilled words of congratulation to his chum Connell, now lieutenant of engineers. Mrs. Graham leaned heavily on the arm of her sturdy son, thinking of all the joy that had been hers, after the years of separation. It had been such a welcome, welcome order that took Major Graham to duty at West Point the last lap of their boy's cadet life. Every Saturday evening he had spent "at home" in the surgeon's quarters, and many a Sunday afternoon. How she had looked forward from week end to week end! How swiftly had the weeks slipped by! How would she miss him in the years to come! How lonely would be the Saturdays and Sundays without her boys, for "Buddy" too, was to leave the home nest. He had passed for Columbia and was to have some terms at what the doctor loved to call "the humanities" before taking up the study of medicine. Her heart had been full of rejoicing and thanksgiving when graduation came, barely a fortnight agone--yet when, for the last time in cadet uniform Geordie stood before her, so soldierly, so manly, so honored by his comrades in the Corps, and she followed him with brimming eyes when, leaving his diploma in her hand, he turned away to his room, in the tower of the old first division, to lay aside forever the plume and sash, the sword and chevrons of the first captaincy, to shed the academy uniform for good and all, she knew she wished the whole year could be lived over again; she knew she would rather the time were still far distant when her son should "change the gray for the blue."
But now, now, every hour of every day for three glorious and beautiful months, she was to have him by her side. She need not, she would not, think of the separation to come late in September, when he must join his regiment and be her boy no more. At least she would try not to think, but here was this cold, stern, business-like order to remind her that she had given her first-born to the service of his country--that now he belonged to the general government and no longer to her. All too soon--oh, many weeks too soon--had the mandate appeared, for it would haunt her day and night until the hour for parting came. Ah, thank God, that at least would not be for weeks! Even Geordie now had become silent and serious. He was listening to McCrea's eager words to Dr. Graham, all about the regiment and Fort Reynolds, and how he wished they were back there again, the finest station the --th had ever had, he declared, and "so near the mines!"
"Just think, Geordie," he cried, "if we were all at Reynolds we could run up the range to the Silver Shield any day, and watch them dragging out gold."
"You haven't lost faith in the Shield, then?" asked Mrs. Graham, smilingly. She thought and cared so little herself. She knew that several officers at Reynolds, her husband and McCrea among them, had invested their scant savings in that most promising venture. She knew that McCrea had vowed it would make them all rich if not famous one of these