of her time in reading, or making notes in a cramped musical notation in a shabby notebook. By degrees, however, her shyness wore off, and her personality began to make itself felt. The captain, a kindly, courteous gentleman of the old school (of which there are so few pupils left), always conscientiously divided his attentions to a hairbreadth (according to precedence) among his passengers; and he made a point of looking after Miss Lauder. Не was rather aghast at finding that she knew no one on board, and had not even been committed to his experienced care. Casting about for a suitable chaperon, he selected a large, broad-featured matron, “by the name of Wigs,” who, in a panoply of steel beads and whalebone, which would have defended Minerva herself, sat all day long in a painfully upright position, knitting from her elbows, and gazing benevolently over the ocean. Mrs. Wigs was charmed to take the young lady under her protecting wing; and for the rest of the voyage she sat, clothed in a little brief authority and a great deal of brown moiré, as near as possible to her young charge, listening with evident enjoyment to the conversation about her, but taking no part in it. By degrees, too, one or two others joined in, under Mrs. Wigs’ matronly and protecting shadow. The funny
