Mr. Benson was capable of going on in this way all day.  But the artist proposed a walk up to Newport, and Mr. King getting Mrs. Pendragon to accompany them, the party set out.  It is a very agreeable climb up Newport, and not difficult; but if the sun is out, one feels, after scrambling over the rocks and walking home by the dusty road, like taking a long pull at a cup of shandygaff.  The mountain is a solid mass of granite, bare on top, and commands a noble view of islands and ocean, of the gorge separating it from Green Mountain, and of that respectable hill.  For this reason, because it is some two or three hundred feet lower than Green Mountain, and includes that scarred eminence in its view, it is the most picturesque and pleasing elevation on the island.  It also has the recommendation of being nearer to the sea than its sister mountain.  On the south side, by a long slope, it comes nearly to the water, and the longing that the visitor to Bar Harbor has to see the ocean is moderately gratified.  The prospect is at once noble and poetic.

Mrs. Pendragon informed Mr. King that he and Miss Lamont and Mr. Forbes were included in the watermelon party that was to start that afternoon at five o’clock.  The plan was for the party to go in buckboards to Eagle Lake, cross that in the steamer, scramble on foot over the “carry” to Jordan Pond, take row-boats to the foot of that, and find at a farmhouse there the watermelons and other refreshments, which would be sent by the shorter road, and then all return by moonlight in the buckboards.

This plan was carried out.  Mrs. Cortlandt, Mrs. Pendragon, and Mrs. Simpkins were to go as chaperons, and Mr. Meigs had been invited by Mrs. Cortlandt, King learned to his disgust, also to act as a chaperon.  All the proprieties are observed at Bar Harbor.  Half a dozen long buckboards were loaded with their merry freight.  At the last Mrs. Pendragon pleaded a headache, and could not go.  Mr. King was wandering about among the buckboards to find an eligible seat.  He was not put in good humor by finding that Mr. Meigs had ensconced himself beside Irene, and he was about crowding in with the Ashley girls—­not a bad fate—­when word was passed down the line from Mrs. Cortlandt, who was the autocrat of the expedition, that Mr. Meigs was to come back and take a seat with Mrs. Simpkins in the buckboard with the watermelons.  She could not walk around the “carry”; she must go by the direct road, and of course she couldn’t go alone.  There was no help for it, and Mr. Meigs, looking as cheerful as an undertaker in a healthy season, got down from his seat and trudged back.  Thus two chaperons were disposed of at a stroke, and the young men all said that they hated to assume so much responsibility.  Mr. King didn’t need prompting in this emergency; the wagons were already moving, and before Irene knew exactly what had happened, Mr. King was begging her pardon for the change, and seating himself beside her.  And he was thinking, “What a confoundedly clever woman Mrs. Cortlandt is!”