Both they and the lad himself looked forward with ardent desire and joyous anticipation to the June commencement, after which would begin the one long holiday Max would have during the six years of his course at the Academy.

The holidays for the home pupils began a day or two earlier, and a merry party, including, besides the captain and his immediate family, the rest of his pupils, with Grandma Elsie, her father and his wife, boarded the Dolphin and set sail for Annapolis to attend the commencement at the Naval Academy.

The weather was delightful, and all greatly enjoyed the little trip.  On their arrival they found Max well and in fine spirits.  The reports of both his studies and conduct were all that could be desired, and the home friends—­his father in especial—­regarded him with both pride and affection, and expressed much pleasure in the fact that he was to accompany them on the return trip.

Max dearly loved his home, and during the nearly two years of his absence from it had had occasional fits of excessive homesickness; more, however, for the dear ones dwelling there than for the place.  So that he was full of joy on learning that every one of the family was on board the Dolphin.

No one cared to tarry long at Annapolis, and they set out on the return trip as soon as Max was free to go with them.

The lovely weather continued, there was nothing to mar the pleasure of the short voyage, the drive and ride that succeeded it—­for the carriages and Max’s pony, Rex, which he hailed with almost a shout of delight and hastened to mount, were found awaiting them at the wharf—­or the arrival at their homes, Ion and Woodburn, which seemed to the young cadet to be looking even more beautiful than ever before.

“Oh, was there ever a lovelier place!” was his delighted exclamation as the carriage, closely followed by Rex, turned in at the great gates giving admission to the Woodburn driveway.  “I thought that of it before I left, but it is vastly improved; almost an earthly paradise.”

“So I think,” said Violet.  “It does credit to your father’s taste.”

“And yours,” added her husband, with a pleased smile; “for have I not always consulted with my wife before making any alteration or adding what I thought would be an improvement?  And has not the first suggestion come from her more than once?”

“Quite true,” she returned, giving him a look of loving appreciation; “in fact, my dear, you are so ready to humor and indulge me in every possible way that I am half afraid to make a suggestion.”

“Lest I should have too much pleasure in carrying it out?” he queried, with playful look and tone.

“Oh, certainly!” she replied with a musical laugh; “it would be a sad pity to spoil so good a husband.”

“Father, may I ride over the grounds before alighting?” asked Max’s voice in eager tones, just at that moment.