Signor Giulio began an eloquent speech about his noble blood, his country's wrongs, and his fair Countess; and his lady began to cry. Tears did more than words. Neither Mr. nor Mrs. Higgs could ever abide the sight of crying: their anger melted like barley-sugar exposed to the moist air—the young couple were forgiven—and the whole family spent the wedding-day at Greenwich.
At dinner, a dish of stewed eels made Mr. Higgs a little pensive, and he remarked, "that the fair sex slipped through your fingers just like eels." This innuendo was, however, all that disturbed the enjoyment of the day, whose hilarity, as the newspapers say of a public dinner, was prolonged to a late hour.
But all this in advance; and Miss Bridget and the Italian professeur des variétés are leaning over the side of the vessel. At length a dark line appeared on the horizon—it widened—assumed a broken outline, like an evening ridge of clouds—gradually the bold coast became defined—an element seemed restored to creation—and the green glad earth was visible to the gaze of the voyager.
Beatrice stood at the little cabin-window, her heart in her eyes, watching, but not for the
