chiefly brought from South America and from
the Persian Gulf, and have many admirers, but I cannot say I like them as
a substitute either for horses or for the gay little ponies. This is such
an exceedingly sociable place that I have frequent opportunities of
looking at the nice horses of my visitors, and most of the equipages would
do credit to any establishment. The favorite style of carriage in use here
is very like a victoria, only there is a curious custom of _always_
keeping the hood up. It looks so strange to my eyes to see the hood, which
projects unusually far as a screen against either sun or rain, kept
habitually up, even during the brief and balmy twilight, when one fancies
it would be so much more agreeable to drive swiftly through the soft air
without any screening _soufflet_. Of course it would be quite necessary to
keep it up in the daytime, or even late at night against the heavy dew,
but this does not begin to fall until it is too dark to remain out
driving.

I must say I like Mauritius extremely. It is so _comfortable_ to live in a
place with good servants and commodious houses, and the society is
particularly refined and agreeable, owing chiefly to the mixture of a
strong French element in its otherwise humdrum ingredients. I have never
seen such a wealth of lovely hair or such beautiful eyes and teeth as I
observe in the girls in every ball-room here; and when you add exceedingly
charming--alas! that I must say foreign--manners and a great deal of
musical talent, you can easily imagine that the style of the society is a
good deal above that to be found in most colonies.

What weigh upon me most sadly in the Mauritius are the solitude and the
intense loneliness of the little island. We are very gay and pleasant
among ourselves, but I often feel as if I were in a dream as far as the
rest of the world is concerned, or as if we were all living in another
planet. Only once in a month does the least whisper reach us from the
great outer world beyond our girdling reef of breaking foam: only once in
four long weeks can any tidings come to us from those we love and are
parted from--any news of the progress of events, any thrilling incidents
of daily history; and it is strange how diluted the sense of interest
becomes by passing through so long an interval of days and weeks. The
force of everything is weakened, its strength broken. Can you fancy the
position of a ship at sea, not voyaging toward any port or h