in the travelling
rug in her state cabin, was not of her class. She could not have been
daintier in mien and shape than she appeared. Hands round and white as
pearls, feet as pretty as ever stole from a man's hand to the stirrup; a
sweet wee face, that had innocence and heart in it. Country bred, I
thought: nested in some Kentish village: a childhood amid the hops:
familiar with buttermilk and home-baked bread.

Who has not been blessed by looking upon such an English face: ruddy on
the cheek, and white and pink upon the brow and neck: the head poised
upon the shoulders with a wondrous delicacy? Such girls issue from
honest Englishmen's homes to gladden honeymoon cottages, and perpetuate
that which is virtuous and courageous in our Saxon race. She lay muffled
in shawls, pillowed upon a carpet-bag, softened with his fur coat,
frightened about the sea, and asking every few minutes whether we were
near the port.

He fell into conversation with me before we were clear of Folkestone
harbour. He was a travelled man, accustomed to do his journeying
socially, and not in the surly, self-contained, and selfish manner of
our countrymen generally. I confess--and it is a boldness, knowing all I
do know now--that I was drawn towards Daker at the outset. He had a
winning manner--just that manner which puts you on a friendly footing
with a stranger before you have passed an hour in his company. He began,
as though it was quite natural that we should become acquainted, in the
tone your neighbour at dinner assumes, although you are unacquainted
with his name. We were on an exact level: gentlemen, beyond fear or
reproach. I repeat emphatically, I liked Daker's manner, for it was easy
and polished, and it had--which you don't often get with much
polish--warmth. I was attracted by his many attentions to his young
wife. Who could be near her, and not feel the chivalry in his soul warm
to such a woman? But Daker's attentions were idiosyncrasies. While he
was talking to me at the cabin-door, he saw the fur coat slip, and
readjusted it. He divined when she wanted to move. He fanned her; and
she sought his eyes incessantly with the deep pure blue of hers, and
slaked her ever-thirsty love with long, passionate gazing. She took no
notice of me: he was all her world.

Daker was in an airy humour--a man I thought without guile or care,
passing away from England to happy connubial times along the enchanting
shores which the Mediterranean bathes. W