o me why so much greater anxiety should be bestowed upon her
health than upon her sister's. It needed some moral reflection to make
it out; but I concluded that pretty girls were, by some law of nature,
more subject to sea-sickness than plain ones; therefore, all these
careful cares were quite in order. I saw the two old ladies--the
benevolent one who had believed so implicitly in all things, but over
whose benign visage doubt had now begun to settle like a cloud; and the
other, who had hoped nothing from the first, and therefore over whom no
disappointment could prevail--and, seeing, I mildly wondered whether,
indeed, 'twere better to have loved and lost, or never to have loved at
all.

My thoughts grew solemn. The green shores beyond the swelling flood
seemed farther off than ever. The Jane Moseley had promised to land us
at Newport pier at seven o'clock. It was already half-past seven; oh,
perfidious Jane! Darkness had settled upon the face of the deep. We went
inside. The sad-eyed young men had evidently been hunting for their
sea-legs again, in the neighborhood of the banqueting-table, where
nobody banqueted. Failing to find the secret of correct locomotion, they
had laid themselves down to sleep, but in that sleep at sea what dreams
did come, and how noisy they were! The dog Thaddeus walked by
dejectedly, sniffing at the ghost of some half-forgotten joy. At last
there rose a cry--Newport! The sleepers started to their feet. I started
to mine, but I discreetly and quietly sat down again. Was it Newport, at
last? Not at all. The harbor lights were gleaming from afar; and the cry
was of the bandmaster shouting to his emissaries, arousing fiddle and
flute and bassoon to their deceitful duty. They had played us out of
port--they would play us in again. They had promised us that all should
go merry as a marriage-bell, and--I would not be understood to complain,
but it had been a sad occasion. Now the deceitful strains rose and fell
again upon the salt sea wind. The many lights glowed and twinkled from
the near shore. We are all at play, come and play with us, screamed the
soft waltz music. It is summer, and the days are long, and trouble is
not, and care is banished. If the waves sigh, it is with bliss. Our
voyage is ended. It is sad that you did not sail with us, but we will
invite you again to-morrow, and the band shall play, and the crowd be
gay, and airs beguile, and blue skies smile, and all shall be music,
music,