"The fraternization of the human race with brutes, which prevails here," L'Isle remarked, "certainly, promotes neither comfort nor cleanliness. Indeed, it is curious, that as you go from north to south, cleanliness should decline in the inverse ratio with the need of it. Compared with ourselves, the French are not a cleanly people, but become so when contrasted with their neighbors, the Spaniards, who are, in turn, less filthy than the Portuguese, whose climate renders cleanliness still more necessary."
"By that ratio, what standard of cleanliness will you find in Morocco?" asked Lady Mabel.
"Perhaps a prominent and redeeming feature in their religion," said L'Isle, "may exalt the standard there. Mahomedan ablutions may avail much in this world, though little in the next."
"I am afraid," said Lady Mabel, "that their cleanly superstition will make me almost regret the expulsion of the Moors."
The commissary was now bustling about, hurrying the preparations for breakfast, and L'Isle went to see if the servants were getting ready for the journey; but Mrs. Shortridge, full of the annoyances she had suffered, continued to denounce their small enemies. Her talk was of vermin.
Lady Mabel, thinking the subject had been sufficiently discussed, interrupted her, saying, "you do not take the most philosophical and poetical view of the subject. Is it not consolatory to reflect, that while men, on suffering a reverse of fortune, too often experience nothing but ingratitude and desertion from their fellows, and sadly learn that
"'Tis ever thus: Those shadows we call friends,
Attend us through the sunshine of success,
To vanish in adversity's dark hour."
"Yet there are followers that adhere to them in their fallen fortunes with more than canine fidelity, sticking to them like their sins, clinging to their persons, cleaving to their garments, with an attachment and in numbers that grow with their patron's destitution."
"But I maintain," Mrs. Shortridge replied, "that it is not only the poor and destitute that here support such a retinue. I have repeatedly seen in Lisbon, and elsewhere, young ladies, and among others a young widow of high rank, the sister of the Bishop of Oporto, lying with her head in the lap of her friend, who parted the locks of her hair to search—"
"Stop!" said Lady Mabel, laying her hand on Mrs. Shortridge's mouth, "you need not chase those small deer any further through the wood. Leave that privileged sport to the natives."