erons and a bronzed veteran, who was inclined to
direct the conversation to his Indian campaigns in the Black Hills, the
company was young, and of the age and temper in which everything seems
fair in love and war, and one that gave Mr. King, if he desired it, an
opportunity of studying the girl of the period--the girl who impresses
the foreigner with her extensive knowledge of life, her fearless freedom
of manner, and about whom he is apt to make the mistake of supposing
that this freedom has not perfectly well-defined limits. It was a
delightful day, such as often comes, even in winter, within the Capes
of Virginia; the sun was genial, the bay was smooth, with only a light
breeze that kept the water sparkling brilliantly, and just enough tonic
in the air to excite the spirits. The little tug, which was pretty
well packed with the merry company, was swift, and danced along in an
exhilarating manner. The bay, as everybody knows, is one of the most
commodious in the world, and would be one of the most beautiful if it
had hills to overlook it. There is, to be sure, a tranquil beauty in
its wooded headlands and long capes, and it is no wonder that the early
explorers were charmed with it, or that they lost their way in its
inlets, rivers, and bays. The company at first made a pretense of trying
to understand its geography, and asked a hundred questions about the
batteries, and whence the Merrimac appeared, and where the Congress
was sunk, and from what place the Monitor darted out upon its big
antagonist. But everything was on a scale so vast that it was difficult
to localize these petty incidents (big as they were in consequences),
and the party soon abandoned history and geography for the enjoyment of
the moment. Song began to take the place of conversation. A couple of
banjos were produced, and both the facility and the repertoire of the
young ladies who handled them astonished Irene. The songs were of love
and summer seas, chansons in French, minor melodies in Spanish, plain
declarations of affection in distinct English, flung abroad with classic
abandon, and caught up by the chorus in lilting strains that partook of
the bounding, exhilarating motion of the little steamer. Why, here is
material, thought King, for a troupe of bacchantes, lighthearted leaders
of a summer festival. What charming girls, quick of wit, dashing in
repartee, who can pick the strings, troll a song, and dance a brando!

"It's like sailing over the