sign, although she gave
him her hand frankly, and wished him a good journey.

The next morning he crossed to Norfolk, was transported through the
snow-covered streets on a sledge, and took his seat in the cars for the
most monotonous ride in the country, that down the coast-line.

When next Stanhope King saw Fortress Monroe it was in the first days of
June. The summer which he had left in the interior of the Hygeia was now
out-of-doors. The winter birds had gone north; the summer birds had not
yet come. It was the interregnum, for the Hygeia, like Venice, has two
seasons, one for the inhabitants of colder climes, and the other for
natives of the country. No spot, thought our traveler, could be more
lovely. Perhaps certain memories gave it a charm, not well defined,
but still gracious. If the house had been empty, which it was far from
being, it would still have been peopled for him. Were they all such
agreeable people whom he had seen there in March, or has one girl the
power to throw a charm over a whole watering-place? At any rate, the
place was full of delightful repose. There was movement enough upon
the water to satisfy one's lazy longing for life, the waves lapped
soothingly along the shore, and the broad bay, sparkling in the sun, was
animated with boats, which all had a holiday air. Was it not enough to
come down to breakfast and sit at the low, broad windows and watch the
shifting panorama? All about the harbor slanted the white sails; at
intervals a steamer was landing at the wharf or backing away from it;
on the wharf itself there was always a little bustle, but no noise, some
pretense of business, and much actual transaction in the way of idle
attitudinizing, the colored man in castoff clothes, and the colored
sister in sun-bonnet or turban, lending themselves readily to the
picturesque; the scene changed every minute, the sail of a tiny boat was
hoisted or lowered under the window, a dashing cutter with its uniformed
crew was pulling off to the German man-of-war, a puffing little tug
dragged along a line of barges in the distance, and on the horizon a
fleet of coasters was working out between the capes to sea. In the open
window came the fresh morning breeze, and only the softened sounds of
the life outside. The ladies came down in cool muslin dresses, and added
the needed grace to the picture as they sat breakfasting by the windows,
their figures in silhouette against the blue water.

No wonder our trave