had never
before been aware. There was one young woman in particular who caught
his eye, a vision of dark hair and black eyes which lived on in his
imagination when it had vanished from his external sight. Sam actually
fancied that the young woman looked at him with approving eyes, and he
was emboldened to look back. It was impossible for social intercourse
between a young lady in society and a fourth-class "beast" to go
further than this, and at this point their relations stood, but Sam was
sure that the maiden liked his looks. It so happened that her most
devoted admirer was none other than Cadet Saunders, who was continually
hovering about her. Sam was devoured with jealousy. In his low estate
he was even unable to find out her name for a long time. He could not
speak to upper-class men, and his classmates knew nothing of the gay
world above them. However, he discovered at last that she was a Miss
Hunter from the West. His informant was a waiter at the hotel whom he
waylaid on his way out one night, for cadets were forbidden to enter
the hotel.

"I suppose she has her father and mother with her?" Sam suggested.

"Oh, no, sir. She's all alone. She's been here all alone every summer
this six years."

"That's strange," said Sam. "Hasn't she a protector?"

"Oh, yes! she has protectors enough. You see, she's always engaged."

"Engaged!" exclaimed the unhappy youth. "How long has she been engaged,
and to whom?"

"Why, this time she's only been engaged two weeks," said the waiter,
"and it's Cadet Saunders she's engaged to; but don't worry, sir, it's
an old story. She's been engaged to a different man every summer for
six years, and at first she generally had two men a summer. She began
with officers of the first class, two in a year; then she fell off to
one in a season; then she dropped to third class; and now she has Mr.
Saunders because his nose isn't just right, sir, if I may say so."

Sam hardly knew what to think. The news of her engagement had plunged
him into despair, but the information that engagement was with her a
temporary matter was decidedly welcome; and even if it were couched in
language that could hardly be called flattering, still he was glad to
hear it. Sam thanked the waiter and gave him a silver coin which he
could ill spare from his pay, but he was satisfied that he had got his
money's worth.

Sam ruminated deep and long over this hard-wrung gossip. He co