Their Pilgrimage | Page 6

hand, gazing out over the sea with "that
far-away look in her eyes." It would have made it much easier for all of
us. But it is better to tell the truth, and let the girl appear in the heroic
attitude of being superior to her circumstances.
Presently Mr. King said to his friend, Mrs. Cortlandt, "Who is that
clever-looking, graceful girl over there?"
"That," said Mrs. Cortlandt, looking intently in the direction indicated
--"why, so it is; that's just the thing," and without another word she

darted across the room, and Mr. King saw her in animated conversation
with the young lady. Returning with satisfaction expressed in her face,
she continued, "Yes, she'll join our party--without her mother. How
lucky you saw her!"
"Well! Is it the Princess of Paphlagonia?"
"Oh, I forgot you were not in Washington last winter. That's Miss
Benson; just charming; you'll see. Family came from Ohio somewhere.
You'll see what they are--but Irene! Yes, you needn't ask; they've got
money, made it honestly. Began at the bottom--as if they were in
training for the presidency, you know--the mother hasn't got used to it
as much as the father. You know how it is. But Irene has had every
advantage--the best schools, masters, foreign travel, everything. Poor
girl! I'm sorry for her. Sometimes I wish there wasn't any such thing as
education in this country, except for the educated. She never shows it;
but of course she must see what her relatives are."
The Hotel Hygeia has this advantage, which is appreciated, at least by
the young ladies. The United States fort is close at hand, with its quota
of young officers, who have the leisure in times of peace to prepare for
war, domestic or foreign; and there is a naval station across the bay,
with vessels that need fashionable inspection. Considering the
acknowledged scarcity of young men at watering-places, it is the duty
of a paternal government to place its military and naval stations close to
the fashionable resorts, so that the young women who are studying the
german [(dance) D.W.] and other branches of the life of the period can
have agreeable assistants. It is the charm of Fortress Monroe that its
heroes are kept from ennui by the company assembled there, and that
they can be of service to society.
When Mrs. Cortlandt assembled her party on the steam-tug chartered
by her for the excursion, the army was very well represented. With the
exception of the chaperons 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