ly's luck every time!" exclaims Miss Nan, her
blue eyes threatening to fill with tears. "I _do_ think they might let
him off the day we get here."

"Unquestionably," answers Uncle Jack, with great gravity, as he assists
the ladies into the yellow omnibus. "You duly notified the
superintendent of your impending arrival, I suppose?"

Mrs. McKay smiles quietly. Hers is a sweet and gentle face, lined with
many a trace of care and anxiety. Her brother's whimsical ways are old
acquaintances, and she knows how to treat them; but Nan is young,
impulsive, and easily teased. She flares up instantly.

"Of course we _didn't_, Uncle Jack; how utterly absurd it would sound!
But Willy knew we were coming, and _he_ must have told him when he asked
for his permit, and it does seem too hard that he was refused."

"Heartless in the last degree," says Uncle Jack, sympathetically, but
with the same suggestive drawl. "Yonder go the father and sister of the
young gentleman whom you announced your intention to castigate because
he didn't agree that Billy was being abused, Nan. You will have a chance
this very evening, won't you? He's officer of the day, according to
Billy's note, and can't escape. You'll have wound up the whole family by
tattoo. Quite a good day's work. Billy's opposers will do well to take
warning and keep out of the way hereafter," he continues, teasingly.
"Oh--ah--_corporal_!" he calls, "who was the young officer who just
drove off in the carriage with the lady and gentleman?"

"That was Lieutenant Lee, sir."

Uncle Jack turns and contemplates his niece with an expression of the
liveliest admiration. "'Pon my word, Miss Nan, you are a most
comprehensive young person. You've indeed let no guilty man escape."

CHAPTER II.

A CADET SCAPEGRACE.

The evening that opened so clear and sunshiny has clouded rapidly over.
Even as the four gray companies come "trotting" in from parade, and,
with the ease of long habit, quickly forming line in the barrack area,
some heavy rain-drops begin to fall; the drum-major has hurried his band
away; the crowd of spectators, unusually large for so early in the
season, scatters for shelter; umbrellas pop up here and there under the
beautiful trees along the western roadway; the adjutant rushes through
"delinquency list" in a style distinguishable only to his stolid, silent
audience standing immovably before him,--a long perspective of gray
uniforms and glistening white belts. The