Angelina Lansing were ill with the heat and kept their rooms.

“We are bidden to cake and wine at five,” said I. “Are you going?”

He said he would be present, and so I left him buckling on his belt, and the conch-horn’s blast echoing over the parade, sounding the assembly.

At the gate I encountered Lana and Mrs. Lansing and our precious Ensign, come to view the inspection, and exchanged a gay greeting with them.

Then, mending my pace, I hastened to Croghan’s house, and found Mrs. Bleecker pacing the foot-path and nibbling fennel.

“How agreeably cool it is growing,” she said as I bent over her fingers. “I truly believe we are to have an endurable day at last.”