against the other, and one steward against another for biscuits and
figs--with the most consummate skill. It is no wonder if this quality can
be perfected so young by Americans that they can snatch all our best young
men from us when they grow up.

I don't know how it is the most unattractive creatures of every nation seem
to be the ones who travel. There is a family of English who have the next
table to us, for instance; they make us blush for our country. The two
young men are the most impossible bounders one could meet, and I am sure
their names must be Percy and Ernest! When there was a dance last night
they smoked pipes in the faces of their partners between the valses, and
altogether were unspeakably aggressive. No American in the world would
behave like that to women. I really think the English middle classes are
the most odious--except, perhaps, the Germans--of any people on earth. And
as these are the ones other nations see most of, no wonder they hate us.

Octavia is so entertained at everything. We have not spoken to anyone
except one family who sit near us on the deck, and they have asked us to
stay with them at their country place on the New Jersey shore. But--Oh! I
forgot to tell you, Mamma, Mr. Renour is on board. Is it not a strange
coincidence? He seemed very surprised to see us, and for a moment it was
quite awkward when I introduced him to Octavia--because she, not being deaf
like Aunt Maria, I knew would hear him calling me Lady Elizabeth and think
it odd, and he would be certain to discover from her that I am married. So
the best thing to do seemed to be to take a walk with him at once on the
top deck and explain matters--this was just before dinner in the twilight.

He told me it was unkind to have given him the slip as we did, and that he
had had "quite a worry" to "come up with" us--but if I imagined he was
going to let me get out of range again I was mistaken! You can't think,