Chapter 19

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 within earshot. "Don't tell me. She knows, Miss Leigh, very well what she's about. Is it no crime, think you, to endeavour to attract the attention of Major F.? My dear Madam," turning to the great lady, who with her head languidly propped by her hand, was eagerly listening to a conversation which so nearly concerned her: "I wonder you can bear so calmly her flirtations with your husband. If it were me now, I should be ready to tear her eyes out. Do speak to the creature, and remonstrate with her on her scandalous conduct."

"Ah, my dear Miss Mann, I am used to these things," sighed Mrs. F. "No conduct of the Major's can give me the least uneasiness now. Nor do I think, that Mrs. Dalton is aware that she is trying to seduce the affections of a _married_ man."

"That she is though," exclaimed Miss Mann, triumphantly. "I took care to interrupt one of their lively conversations, by telling Major F. that his wife was ill, and wished to see him. Mrs. Dalton coloured, and moved away; but the moment my back was turned, she recommenced her attack. If she were a widow, one might make some allowance for her. But a young married woman, with two small children! I have no doubt that she left her husband for no good."

"She was married very young, to a man more than double her own age," said Miss Leigh. "The match was made for her by her friends--especially by her grandmother, who now resides in Edinburgh, and whom I know very well; a woman of considerable property, by whom Mrs. Dalton was brought up. She was always a gay, flighty girl, dreadfully indulged, and used from a child to have her own way. I consider her lot peculiarly hard, in being united, when a mere girl, to a man whom she had scarcely seen a dozen times, and whom she did not love. The worst that can be said of her is, that she is vain and imprudent; but I can never believe that she is the bad, designing woman you would make her."

"Her conduct is very creditable for a clergyman's wife," sneered the old maid. "I wonder the rain don't bring her down into the cabin. But the society of ladies would prove very insipid to a person of her peculiar taste. I should like to know what brings her from Jamaica?"

"If it will satisfy your doubts, I can inform you," said Miss Leigh, with a quiet smile. "To place her two children with her grandmother, that they may receive an European education. She is a thoughtless being, but hardly deserves your severe censures."

The amiable manner in which this lady endeavoured to defend the absent, without wholly excusing her levity, struck Flora very forcibly. Mrs. Dalton's conduct upon deck had created in her own mind no very favourable opinion of her good qualities. Miss Leigh's remarks tended not a little to soften her disgust and aversion towards that individual, whose attack upon her she felt was as ill-natured, as it was unjust. She was now inclined to let them pass for what they were worth, and to dismiss Mrs. Dalton from her thoughts altogether. But Miss Mann was too much excited by Miss Leigh's extenuating remarks, to let the subject drop, and returned with fresh vigour to the charge.

"It is totally beyond my power," she cried, "to do justice to her vanity and frivolity. No one ever before accused me of being ill-natured, or censorious; but that woman is the vainest person I ever saw. Did you notice, my dear Mrs. F., that she changed her dress three times yesterday, and twice to-day? She knelt a whole hour before the cheval-glass, arranging her hair, and trying on a variety of expensive head-dresses, before she could fix on one for the saloon. I should be ashamed of being the only lady among so many men. But she is past blushing--she has a face of brass."

"And so plain too," murmured Mrs. Major F.

"You cannot deny that her features are good, ladies," again interposed Miss Leigh; "but creoles seldom possess the fine red and white of our British belles."

"At night," suggested Miss Mann, "her colour is remarkably good: it is not subject to any variation like ours. The bleak sea air does not dim the roses on her cheeks; while these young ladies look as blue and as cold as figures carved out of stone. Of course, Miss Leigh will think me very uncharitable in saying that Mrs. D. paints; but I know she does. She left her dressing-case open yesterday, and her little boy was dabbling his fingers in her French carmine and pearl white, and a fine mess he made of his mamma's beautiful complexion. Bless me!" exclaimed the old maid, suddenly lowering her voice to a whisper, "if there is not her black imp sitting under the table; he will be sure to tell her all that we have said about her! What a nuisance he is! I do not think it is proper for him, a great boy of sixteen, to be admitted into the ladies' cabin."

"Pshaw!" said Mrs. Major F.; "nobody cares for him--a black."

"But, my dear Mrs. F., though he is a black, the boy has eyes and ears, like the rest of his sex, and my sense of female propriety is shocked by his presence. But, who are these people?"--glancing at Flora and her maid--"and why is that woman admitted into the ladies' cabin?--servants have no business here."

"She is the nurse; that alters the case," said Miss Leigh. "The plea of being the children's attendant brought Master Hector into the cabin."

"The boy is black, and has, on that score, as Mrs. Major F. says, neither rank nor sex," continued the waspish Miss Mann, contradicting the objections she had made to Hector's company only a few minutes before. "I will not submit to this insult, nor occupy the same apartment with a servant."

"My dear Madam, you strangely forget yourself," said Miss Leigh. "This lady has a very young infant, and cannot do without the aid of her nurse. A decent, tidy young woman is not quite such a nuisance as the noisy black boy that Mrs. Dalton has entailed upon us."

"But, then she is a woman of _fashion_," whispered Miss Mann; "and we know nothing about these people, and if I were to judge by the young person's dress--"

"A very poor criterion," interrupted Miss Leigh; "I draw my inferences from a higher source." And turning to Flora, she inquired, in a kind, friendly tone, "if she were going all the way to Edinburgh, the age of the baby, and how both were affected by the sea."

Before Flora could answer these questions, Miss Mann addressed her with great asperity of look and manner--

"Perhaps, Madam, you are not aware that it is against the regulations of these vessels, to admit servants into the state cabin."

"I am sorry, ladies," said Flora, rather proudly, "that the presence of mine should incommode you. I have only just recovered from a dangerous illness, and am unable at present to take the whole charge of the child myself. I have paid for my servant's attendance upon me in the cabin, and I am certain that she will conduct herself in a manner not to offend the prejudices of any one here."

"How unpleasant," grumbled the old maid, as she turned disdainfully on her heel; "but what else can be expected from under-bred people."

"Send away your nurse," said Miss Leigh, in a low voice, to Mrs. Lyndsay; "her presence gives, it seems, great offence to certain people, and, if I may judge by her pale looks, she will be of little service to you; I will help you to take care of your sweet baby."

Flora immediately complied with Miss Leigh's request. Hannah was dismissed, and, indeed, the poor girl had enough to do to take care of herself.

Towards evening the wind rose to a gale, and Flora, who had not suffered from sickness during her two disastrous trips to sea, became so alarmingly ill, that she was unable to attend to the infant, or assist herself. Miss Leigh, like a good Samaritan, sat up with her during the night, but in the morning she was so much worse, that she earnestly requested that her husband might be allowed to see her.

Her petition was warmly seconded by Miss Leigh, but met with a decided refusal from the rest of the lady-passengers. Mrs. Dalton, who took a very prominent part in the matter, sprang from her berth, and, putting her back against the cabin door, declared, "That no man save the surgeon should gain, with her consent, an entrance there!"

"Then I hope, Madam," said Miss Leigh, who was supporting Flora in her arms, "that you will adhere to your own regulations, and dismiss your black boy."

"I shall do no such thing; my objection is to men, and not to boys.--Hector, remain where you are!"

"How consistent!" sneered the old maid.

"The poor lady may die," suggested Miss Leigh.

"Send for the Doctor--there is one on board."

"The Doctor, ladies," said the stewardess, coming forward, "got hurt last night by the fall of the sail, during the storm, and is ill in his bed."

"If such is the case," continued Miss Leigh, "you cannot, surely, deny the lady the consolation of speaking to her husband?"

"What a noise that squalling child makes!" cried a fat woman, popping her night-capped head out of an upper berth; "can't it be removed? It hinders me from getting a wink of sleep."

"Cannot you take charge of it, Stewardess?"

"Oh, La! I've too much upon my hands already--what with Mrs. Dalton's children and all this sickness!"

"Have a little mercy, ladies, on the sick mother, and I will endeavour to pacify its cries," said Miss Leigh. "Poor little thing, it misses her care, and we are all strange to it."

"I insist upon its being removed!" cried the fat woman. "The comfort of every lady in the cabin is not to be sacrificed for the sake of that squalling brat. If women choose to travel with such young infants, they should take a private conveyance. I will complain to the Captain, if the stewardess does not remove it instantly."

What a difference there is in women! Some, like ministering angels, strew flowers and scatter blessings along the rugged paths of life; while others, by their malevolence and pride, increase its sorrows an hundred fold.

The next day continued stormy, and the rain fell in torrents. The unsteady motion of the ship did not tend to improve the health of the occupants of the ladies' cabin. Those who had been well the day before, were now as helpless and miserable as their companions. Miss Leigh alone seemed to retain her usual composure. Mrs. Dalton could scarcely be named in this catalogue, as she only slept and dressed in the cabin, the rest of her time being devoted to her friends upon deck, but, in spite of the boisterous winds and heavy sea, she was as gay and as airy as ever.

Her noisy children were confined to the cabin, where they amused themselves by running races round the table, and shouting at the top of their shrill voices. In all their pranks, they were encouraged and abetted by Hector, who, regardless of the entreaties of the invalids, and the maledictions of the exasperated stewardess, did his very best to increase the uproar and confusion. Hector did not care for the commands of any one but his mistress, and she was in the saloon, playing at billiards with Major F.

Little Willie Dalton had discovered the baby, and Flora was terrified whenever he approached her berth, which was on a level with the floor of the cabin, as that young gentleman, who was at the unmanageable age of three years, seemed decidedly bent on mischief. Twice he had crept into her bed on his hands and knees, and aimed a blow at the head of the sleeping babe with the leg of a broken chair, which he had found beneath the sofa.

While the ladies slept, Hector stole from berth to berth, and possessed himself of all their stores of oranges, lemons, and cayenne lozenges; sharing the spoils with the troublesome, spoilt monkeys, left by their careful mamma in his keeping.

Towards evening Mrs. Lyndsay felt greatly recovered from her grievous attack of sea-sickness; and, with the assistance of Miss Leigh, she contrived to dress herself, and get upon the deck.

The rain was still falling in large, heavy drops; but the sun was bravely struggling through the dense masses of black clouds, which had obscured his rays during the long stormy day, and now cast a watery and uncertain gleam upon the wild scenery, over which Bamborough Castle frowns in savage sublimity.

This was the last glance Flora gave to the shores of dear old England. The angry, turbulent ocean, the lowering sky, and falling rain, seemed emblems of her own sad destiny. Her head sunk upon her husband's shoulder, as he silently clasped her to his breast; and she could only answer his anxious inquiries respecting herself and the child with heavy sobs. For his sake--for the sake of the little one, who was nestled closely to her throbbing heart--she had consented to leave those shores for ever. Then why did she repine? Why did that last glance of her native land fill her heart with such unutterable grief? Visions of the dim future floated before her, prophetic of all the trials and sorrows which awaited her in those unknown regions to which they were journeying. She had obeyed the call of duty, but had not yet tasted the reward. The sacrifice had not been as yet purified and sublimed, by long-suffering and self-denial, so as to render it an acceptable offering on so holy a shrine. She looked up to heaven, and tried to breathe a prayer; but all was still and dark in her bewildered mind.

The kind voice of her husband at last roused her from the indulgence of vain regrets. The night was raw and cold; the decks wet and slippery from the increasing rain; and, with an affectionate pressure of the hand that went far to reconcile her to her lot, Lyndsay whispered, "This is no place for you, Flora, and my child. Return, dearest, to the cabin."

With reluctance Flora obeyed. Beside him she felt neither the cold nor wet; and, with the greatest repugnance, she re-entered the ladies' cabin, and, retiring to her berth, enjoyed for several hours a tranquil and refreshing sleep.