shower; all heroically did up their back hair, put on their best suits, and walked forth with the delusive hope that no one would know how ill they had been.
A French Marquis with a sickly little son, whose diet of fried potatoes and sour wine perhaps accounted for his having the temper of a young fiend, appeared, and were made much of by dear, title-loving Americans.
A Spanish opera singer, stout, saffron-colored, and imperious, likewise emerged from obscurity, with a meek little husband, who waited on her like a servant, and a big, bald parrot who swore like a trooper.
Several nuns languished in corners of the saloon, surveying the vanities of life with interest, and telling their beads devoutly when they saw any one looking at them.
A mysterious lady in green velvet with many diamonds, and a shabby, speechless companion, sailed about the ship, regardless of the rumors told of her,—deserted husbands, stolen jewelry, lovers waiting on the other side, and many equally pleasant little tales. The gentlemen with orange gloves and copper-
