In spite of the early hour, and the disagreeable weather, a number of persons, glad to escape from the close confinement of the cabins, were pacing the deck of the steamer. Others were leaning over the bulwarks, regarding the aspect of the country they were rapidly passing; while some were talking in small groups, in a loud declamatory tone, evidently more intent on attracting the attention of the bystanders than of edifying their own immediate listeners. Though bright eyes might look heavy, and fair faces languid and sleepy, vanity was wide awake, and never more active than in the midst of a crowd, where all are strangers to each other. It affords such a glorious opportunity for display for pretenders to rank and importance to show off their affected airs of wealth and consequence; and the world can lay bare its rotten heart, without much fear of detection, or dread of unpleasant results.
Flora sat down upon a bench beside her husband, and her eye ranged from group to group of those strange faces, with a mechanical, uninterested gaze. Here a pretty insipid-looking girl sauntered the deck with a book in her hand, from which she never read; and another, more vivacious, and equally intent on attracting her share of public notice, raved to an elderly gentleman, on whose arm she was leaning, of the beauty and magnificence of the ocean.
The young and good-looking of either sex were flirting. The more wily and experienced coquetting after a graver fashion; while the middle-aged were gossiping to some congenial spirit on the supposed merits or demerits of their neighbours.
Not a few prostrate forms might be seen reclining upon shawls and cloaks, supported by pillows, whose languid, pale faces, and disarranged tresses, showed that the demon of the waters had been at work, and remorselessly had stricken them down.
Standing near the seat occupied by the Lyndsays, Flora observed a tall, fashionably-dressed woman, apparently about twenty-eight or thirty years of age. She was laughing and chatting in the most lively and familiar manner with a handsome, middle-aged man, in a military undress. The person of the lady was very agreeable, and though neither pretty nor elegant, was fascinating and attractive.
As her male companion constantly addressed her as Mrs. Dalton, we will call her by her name. When Mrs. Lyndsay first took her seat upon the deck Mrs. Dalton left off her conversation with Major F——, and regarded the new arrival with a long, cool, deliberate stare, which would have won a smile from Flora, had it not been evidently meant to insult and annoy; for, turning to the Major, with a glance of peculiar meaning, accompanied with the least possible elevation of her shoulders, she let slip the word—“Nobody!”
“I am sure that he is a gentleman, and, if I mistake not, an officer, and a fine intelligent looking man,” remarked her companion, in an aside; “and I like the appearance of his wife.”
“My dear Sir, I tell you that she is nobody. Look at that merino gown; what lady would venture on board these fine vessels, where they meet with so many fashionable people, in such a dress?”
“A very suitable dress, I should say, for a sea voyage.”
“Pshaw!” muttered Mrs. Dalton, “have done with your prudent Scotch sense of propriety. Who minds spoiling a good dress or two, when their standing in society is risked by appearing shabby? I tell you, Major, that she is nobody.”