And gem of all the nation.
He made confession of you,
And gave you such a masterly report
For art...'twould be a sight indeed
If one could match you.
—Hamlet.
MRS. Crawford absolutely clung to Daireen all this evening. When the whist parties were formed in the cabin she brought the girl on deck and instructed her in some of the matters worth knowing aboard a passenger ship.
“On no account bind yourself to any whist set before you look about you: nothing could be more dangerous,” she said confidentially. “Just think how terrible it would be if you were to join a set now, and afterwards to find out that it was not the best set. You would simply be ruined. Besides that, it is better to stay on deck as much as possible during the first day or two at sea. Now let us go over to the major and Campion.”
So Daireen found herself borne onward with Mrs. Crawford's arm in her own to where Major Crawford and Doctor Campion were sitting on their battered deck-chairs lighting fresh cheroots from the ashes of the expiring ends.
“Don't tread on the tumblers, my dear,” said the major as his wife advanced. “And how is Miss Gerald now that we have got under weigh? You didn't take any of that liquid they insult the Chinese Empire by calling tea, aboard ship, I hope?”