esan ladies (and Vaekehu above
all others) delight to sing their language. An adopted daughter
interpreted, while we gave the news, and rehearsed by name our friends
of Anaho. As we talked, we could see, through the landward door, another
lady of the household at her toilet under the green trees; who,
presently, when her hair was arranged, and her hat wreathed with
flowers, appeared upon the back verandah with gracious salutations.

Vaekehu is very deaf; _"merci"_ is her only word of French; and I do not
know that she seemed clever. An exquisite, kind refinement, with a shade
of quietism, gathered perhaps from the nuns, was what chiefly struck us.
Or rather, upon that first occasion, we were conscious of a sense as of
district-visiting on our part, and reduced evangelical gentility on the
part of our hostess. The other impression followed after she was more at
ease, and came with Stanislao and his little girl to dine on board the
Casco. She had dressed for the occasion: wore white, which very well
became her strong brown face; and sat among us, eating or smoking her
cigarette, quite cut off from all society, or only now and then included
through the intermediary of her son. It was a position that might have
been ridiculous, and she made it ornamental; making believe to hear and
to be entertained; her face, whenever she met our eyes, lighting with
the smile of good society; her contributions to the talk, when she made
any, and that was seldom, always complimentary and pleasing. No
attention was paid to the child, for instance, but what she remarked and
thanked us for. Her parting with each, when she came to leave, was
gracious and pretty, as had been every step of her behaviour. When Mrs.
Stevenson held out her hand to say good-bye, Vaekehu took it, held it,
and a moment smiled upon her; dropped it, and then, as upon a kindly
afterthought, and with a sort of warmth of condescension, held out both
hands and kissed my wife upon both cheeks. Given the same relation of
years and of rank, the thing would have been so done on the boards of
the Comedie Francaise; just so might Madame Brohan have warmed and
condescended to Madame Broisat in the _Marquis de Villemer_. It was my
part to accompany our guests ashore: when I kissed the little girl
good-bye at the pier steps, Vaekehu gave a cry of gratification--reached
down her hand into the boat, took mine, and pressed it with that
flattering softness which seems the coquetry of the