er
colour was of the most delightful health. In this delightful health, in
her bountiful yet perfect physical eloquence, her attractiveness, as
it seemed to me, chiefly lay. For no one would ever have guessed her to
possess an emotional temperament. All that was outer was fascinating,
all that was inner suggested coldness. After experience assured me that
all who came to know her shared this estimate, even in those days when
every man on the ship was willing to be her slave. She had a compelling
atmosphere, a possessive presence; and yet her mind at this time
was unemotional--like Octavia, the wife of Mark Antony, "of a cold
conversation." She was striking and unusual in appearance, and yet well
within convention and "good form." Her dress was simply and modestly
worn, and had little touches of grace and taste which, I understand,
many ladies on board sought to imitate, when they recovered from the
first feeling of envy.

She was an example of splendid life. I cared to look at her as one would
dwell on the sleek beauty of a deer--as, indeed, I have many a time
since then, in India, watched a tigress asleep on her chain, claws
hidden, wild life latent but slumbering. I could have staked my life
that Mrs. Falchion was insensible to love or passion, and unimpeachable
in the broad scheme of right and wrong; imperious in requiring homage,
incapable of giving it. I noticed when she laughed, as she did once at
table, that her teeth were very white and small and square; and, like a
schoolgirl, she had a habit of clicking them together very lightly, but
not conspicuously, as if trying their quality. This suggested, however,
something a little cruel. Her appetite was very good. She was coolly
anxious about the amusements; she asked me if I could get her a list
of the passengers, said that she was never sea-sick, and took a languid
interest in the ladies present. Her glance at the men was keen at first,
then neutral.

Once again, during the meal, she slowly turned and flashed an
inquiring glance at me. I caught her eyes. She did not show the least
embarrassment, and asked me if the band insisted on playing every day.
Before she left the saloon, one could see that many present were talking
about her. Even the grim old captain followed her with his eyes as she
went. When she rose, I asked her if she was going on deck. I did it
casually, as though it was her usual custom to appear there after
dinner. In like fashion she replied tha