he care of such a nurse.

The clouds, which had been rising for some time, now gave very
unequivocal notice of an approaching storm. The rain began to fall, and
the decks were quickly cleared of their motley groups.

CHAPTER XVIII.

A PEEP INTO THE LADIES' CABIN.

In the ladies' cabin all was helplessness and confusion: the larger
portion of the berths were already occupied by invalids in every stage
of sea-sickness; the floor and sofas were strewn with bonnets and
shawls, and articles of dress were scattered about in all directions.
Some of the ladies were stretched upon the carpet; others, in a sitting
posture, were supporting their aching heads upon their knees, and
appeared perfectly indifferent to all that was passing around them, and
only alive to their own misery. Others there were, who, beginning to
recover from the odious malady, were employing their returning faculties
in quizzing, and making remarks in audible whispers, on their prostrate
companions.

The centre of such a group was a little sharp-faced, dark-eyed,
sallow-skinned old maid of forty, whose angular figure was covered with
ample folds of rich black silk, cut very low in the bust, and exposing a
portion of her person, which, in all ladies of her age, is better hid.
She was travelling companion to a large, showily-dressed matron of
fifty, who occupied the best sofa in the cabin, and, although evidently
convalescent, commanded the principal attendance of the stewardess,
while she graciously received the gratuitous services of all who were
well enough to render her their homage. She was evidently the great lady
of the cabin; and round her couch a knot of gossips had collected, when
Flora, followed by Hannah carrying the baby, entered upon the scene.

The character of Mrs. Dalton formed the topic of conversation. The
little old maid was remorselessly tearing it to tatters. "No woman who
valued her reputation," she said, with pious horror in her looks and
tone, "would flirt in the disgraceful manner that Mrs. Dalton was
doing."

"There is some excuse for her conduct," remarked a plain but
interesting-looking woman, not herself in the early spring of life.
"Mrs. Dalton is a West Indian, and has not been brought up with our
ideas of refinement and delicacy."

"I consider it no excuse," cried the other vehemently, glancing up, as
the cabin-door opened to admit Flora and her maid, to be sure that the
object of her animadversions was not wi