“Britomarte, dear Britomarte, you, too, will go with us,” pleaded Erminie.
“Of course I shall, love,” murmured Miss Conyers, in reply.
“Elfie dear, I know that you must stay here to receive your father when he comes in to dinner, else I would ask you also to go with us,” said Erminie.
“Thanks for nothing!” laughed Elfie. “I can’t go, and I don’t want to go; and as Captain Rosenthal is neither my brother nor my lover, there is no necessity for me to go.”
The carriage was at the door at five o’clock.
Justin took leave of Elfie, left his regards for Major Fielding and Lieutenant Ethel, and then entered the carriage where Britomarte and Erminie were already seated.
A half hour’s rapid driving brought them to the steamboat wharf, which was now a scene of great excitement.
The troops were embarking; and a great number of people—relatives, friends and even mere acquaintances were assembled to see them off.
The regiments were embarked by companies. And while one company would be passing on to the boat in files, those remaining on the wharf were “at rest.”
Some were devouring fruit and cakes at the stands on the grounds; some buying papers of the newsboys, who were crying the last victory; some were shaking hands with friends; and others, many others, were bidding good-bye to mothers, wives, sisters, or sweethearts, assembled there, “to see the last of them.”