In the censorious mood induced by the reflection that he had waited an hour and a half for half a minute’s glimpse of the imperial party, March now decided not to go to the manoeuvres, where he might be subjected to still greater humiliation and disappointment.  He had certainly come to Wurzburg for the manoeuvres, but Wurzburg had been richly repaying in itself; and why should he stifle half an hour in an overcrowded train, and struggle for three miles on foot against that harsh wind, to see a multitude of men give proofs of their fitness to do manifold murder?  He was, in fact, not the least curious for the sight, and the only thing that really troubled him was the question of how he should justify his recreance to his wife.  This did alloy the pleasure with which he began, after an excellent breakfast at a neighboring cafe, to stroll about the streets, though he had them almost to himself, so many citizens had followed the soldiers to the manoeuvres.

It was not till the soldiers began returning from the manoeuvres, dusty-footed, and in white canvas overalls drawn over their trousers to save them, that he went back to Mrs. March and Miss Triscoe at the Swan.  He had given them time enough to imagine him at the review, and to wonder whether he had seen General Triscoe and the Stollers there, and they met him with such confident inquiries that he would not undeceive them at once.  He let them divine from his inventive answers that he had not gone to the manoeuvres, which put them in the best humor with themselves, and the girl said it was so cold and rough that she wished her father had not gone, either.  The general appeared just before dinner and frankly avowed the same wish.  He was rasping and wheezing from the dust which filled his lungs; he looked blown and red, and he was too angry with the company he had been in to have any comments on the manoeuvres.  He referred to the military chiefly in relation to the Miss Stollers’ ineffectual flirtations, which he declared had been outrageous.  Their father had apparently no control over them whatever, or else was too ignorant to know that they were misbehaving.  They were without respect or reverence for any one; they had talked to General Triscoe as if he were a boy of their own age, or a dotard whom nobody need mind; they had not only kept up their foolish babble before him, they had laughed and giggled, they had broken into snatches of American song, they had all but whistled and danced.  They made loud comments in Illinois English—­on the cuteness of the officers whom they admired, and they had at one time actually got out their handkerchiefs.  He supposed they meant to wave them at the officers, but at the look he gave them they merely put their hats together and snickered in derision of him.  They were American girls of the worst type; they conformed to no standard of behavior; their conduct was personal.  They ought to be taken home.

Mrs. March said she saw what he meant, and she agreed with him that they were altogether unformed, and were the effect of their own ignorant caprices.  Probably, however, it was too late to amend them by taking them away.