the
ship, tried to smite these stalwart young German sailors on the face.

Mrs. Hermann, an engaging, stout housewife, wore on board baggy blue
dresses with white dots. When, as happened once or twice I caught her at
an elegant little wash-tub rubbing hard on white collars, baby's socks,
and Hermann's summer neckties, she would blush in girlish confusion, and
raising her wet hands greet me from afar with many friendly nods. Her
sleeves would be rolled up to the elbows, and the gold hoop of her
wedding ring glittered among the soapsuds. Her voice was pleasant, she
had a serene brow, smooth bands of very fair hair, and a good-humoured
expression of the eyes. She was motherly and moderately talkative. When
this simple matron smiled, youthful dimples broke out on her fresh broad
cheeks. Hermann's niece on the other hand, an orphan and very silent, I
never saw attempt a smile. This, however, was not gloom on her part but
the restraint of youthful gravity.

They had carried her about with them for the last three years, to help
with the children and be company for Mrs. Hermann, as Hermann mentioned
once to me. It had been very necessary while they were all little, he
had added in a vexed manner. It was her arm and her sleek head that
I had glimpsed one morning, through the stern-windows of the cabin,
hovering over the pots of fuchsias and mignonette; but the first time I
beheld her full length I surrendered to her proportions. They fix her
in my mind, as great beauty, great intelligence, quickness of wit
or kindness of heart might have made some her other woman equally
memorable.

With her it was form and size. It was her physical personality that had
this imposing charm. She might have been witty, intelligent, and kind to
an exceptional degree. I don't know, and this is not to the point. All
I know is that she was built on a magnificent scale. Built is the only
word. She was constructed, she was erected, as it were, with a regal
lavishness. It staggered you to see this reckless expenditure of
material upon a chit of a girl. She was youthful and also perfectly
mature, as though she had been some fortunate immortal. She was heavy
too, perhaps, but that's nothing. It only added to that notion of
permanence. She was barely nineteen. But such shoulders! Such round
arms! Such a shadowing forth of mighty limbs when with three long
strides she pounced across the deck upon the overturned Nicholas--it's
perfectly indescribable! She