Dear Jones [as the train starts again]: Bride and groom, fife and drum, fade away from sight and hearing. I wonder if we shall ever think of them again?
Baby Van Rensselaer: I shall, I’m sure. She was so pretty. And, besides, the music was lively. I shan’t have anything half as amusing as that at Shelter Island.
Dear Jones: Don’t you like it, then?
Baby Van Rensselaer: Oh, dear no! I shall be glad to get away to my aunt’s place at Watch Hill. It’s very poky indeed, at Shelter Island (sighs). And to think that I shall have to spend just two weeks of primness and propriety there.
Dear Jones: Just two weeks? Ah!
V.
THE FIFTH CONVERSATION.
Tuesday, September 5, 1882. (Afternoon.)
Although it is difficult to tell the length from the breadth of the small steamer that plies between Sag Harbor and New London, it is safe to assume that it was the bow that was pointing away from the Shelter Island dock as Baby Van Rensselaer stepped out of the cabin and Dear Jones walked up to her, lifting his hat with an expression of surprise on his face that might have been better, considering that he had rehearsed it a number of times since he left Sag Harbor.
Baby Van Rensselaer: Why, Mr. Jones!