re most agreeable. All of them had set views
on every subject, not any hesitation or indecision, and they all used
each other's names in every sentence. They were full of practical
common sense, and rigid virtue; and did not worry about intellectual
conversation.
At this moment the Vicomte has peeped in to call Octavia and me to
dinner; we were resting in our drawing-room. So I must stop. I will
post this to-morrow when we get to a big station.
Your affectionate daughter,
ELIZABETH.
_Morning._
P.S.--These sleeping cars are really wonderful. Such a thing happened
last night! But it shows how comfortable the beds are, and how soundly
people can sleep. At the station where we stopped after dinner, two
couples got in, an uncle and nephew, married to an aunt and niece; only
the uncle's wife was the niece, and the nephew's the aunt, a plain
elderly person with a fierce commanding glance and a mole on her upper
lip, while he was a nice-looking boy with droopy grey eyes. The train
was very crowded, and they could only get two single berths--lower
ones, but they are quite wide enough for two people to sleep in at a
pinch. It appears the husbands went off to smoke while the wives
undressed and got into bed, and when they returned the coloured
conductor showed them to their places, naturally thinking, as they were
the same name, the old ones were a pair and the young ones another. And
fancy, Mamma, they never found out till the morning, when the whole car
was awakened by the old lady's yells! And the old gentleman flew out
like Hopkins and wanted to nearly murder the conductor. But it was not
the least his fault, was it? And the nephew, such a nice, generous
fellow, gave the poor nigger twenty-five dollars to make up for being
roughly handled. The niece still slept on through all this noise, and
Tom, who was passing at the time the old gentleman lifted the curtains
to climb in there, said she looked the sweetest thing possible with her
long eyelashes on her cheek.
The four had the next table to us at lunch, and they seemed all at
sixes and sevens with one another, the elderly lady glaring at her
young husband, and the uncle frowning at the niece, while the nephew
had just the look of Hurstbridge when Mademoiselle scolds him unjustly.
It was dreadful for them, wasn't it, Mamma? and not a soul to blame.
_Still in the train._
DEAREST MAMMA,--You can't think what interesting country we are going
through.
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