e thick Virginia
creepers, which made a shadowy green room of the "piazza." Birds were
simply roaring with joy in the trees that overhung the house, and
Potter and I almost quarrelled because he would insist that some huge
creatures hopping about on the grass were robins. They would have made
three of ours, and were much more like quails that had spilt strawberry
juice on their breasts.
By and by Captain Collingwood asked if "Lady Betty didn't want to go
and see things."
"She's booked to me for Flirtation Walk," said Potter, before I could
answer. "Three's a crowd there, old chap." On which I regret to state
Captain Collingwood suggested that Potter should teach his own
grandmother something about nourishing herself with an egg diet.
"Anyhow, I suppose you don't object to a rearguard for inspection of
camp, and other features of public interest," he went on; and after
some hesitation Potter decided that this would be admissible.
Mrs. Ess Kay and Sally both wanted to lie down (it's strange the
fondness American women have for putting themselves in a horizontal
position in the daytime!) so Mrs. Ess Kay said that she would
commission her brother as chaperon; I needn't be anxious, she assured
me, it was quite _comme il faut_. As if I would have worried about a
thing like that!
I was delighted to go, because the most interesting groups had been
passing the house, and it was difficult to see all you wanted to
through the veil of creepers, without continually craning your neck.
Tall, brown-faced boys, got up much like glorified Buttons, were
sauntering about, holding sunshades over the heads of girls so young
that they would have been in short frocks with their hair down their
backs, in England. The girls were in white muslin or pale colours, with
charming, floppy Leghorn hats trimmed with flowers; and they looked
like the daintiest, prettiest of French dolls. But I was a great deal
more interested in the youths, who were the cadets--first classmen,
Potter said, and would be second lieutenants next year.
I never could take much interest in Eton boys, the few I have seen, for
they look such children that one would be positively ashamed to bother
with them; but the West Point cadets (though one couldn't exactly take
them seriously like regularly grown-up men, perhaps), fascinated me
from the very first glance through Potter's Virginia creeper. They
looked as if they thought a lot of themselves, and the girls they we
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