te gloves,
bending to talk to one of the ladies, is a Mr Vaughan. He is to be
seen at Almack's, at Crockford's, and everywhere else. Everybody knows
him, and he knows everybody. He is a little in debt, and yachting is
convenient.

The one who sits by the lady is a relation of Lord B---; you see at once
what he is. He apes the sailor; he has not shaved, because sailors have
no time to shave every day; he has not changed his linen, because
sailors cannot change every day. He has a cigar in his mouth, which
makes him half sick and annoys his company. He talks of the pleasure of
a rough sea, which will drive all the ladies below--and then they will
not perceive that he is more sick than themselves. He has the
misfortune to be born to a large estate, and to be a _fool_. His name
is Ossulton.

The last of the gentlemen on board whom I have to introduce is Mr
Seagrove. He is slightly made, with marked features full of
intelligence. He has been brought up to the bar; and has every
qualification but application. He has never had a brief, nor has he a
chance of one. He is the fiddler of the company, and he has locked up
his chambers and come, by invitation of his lordship, to play on board
of his yacht.

I have yet to describe the ladies--perhaps I should have commenced with
them--I must excuse myself upon the principle of reserving the best to
the last. All puppet-showmen do so: and what is this but the first
scene in my puppet-show?

We will describe them according to seniority. That tall, thin,
cross-looking lady of forty-five is a spinster, and sister to Lord B---.
She has been persuaded, very much against her will, to come on board;
but her notions of propriety would not permit her niece to embark under
the protection of only her father. She is frightened at everything: if
a rope is thrown down on the deck, up she starts, and cries, "Oh!" if on
the deck, she thinks the water is rushing in below; if down below, and
there is a noise, she is convinced there is danger; and if it be
perfectly still, she is sure there is something wrong. She fidgets
herself and everybody, and is quite a nuisance with her pride and
ill-humour; but she has strict notions of propriety, and sacrifices
herself as a martyr. She is the Hon. Miss Ossulton.

The lady who, when she smiles, shows so many dimples in her pretty oval
face, is a young widow of the name of Lascelles. She married an old man
to please her father and mother