I have a sea-green tarlatan lying so
conveniently. Colonel Latrobe looks exactly like a Triton, with that
wondrous beard. A little alum sprinkled over its red-gold ground would
do wonders in the way of effect--would be gorgeous--wouldn't it, now,
Miss Harz?"
"But all that could be done on shore as well, Miss Pyne," I replied, in
the way of reminiscence. "It is a pity to waste our opportunities of
observation now, in getting up costumes; and, for my part, I confess
that I have a wholesome dread of these sea-deities, and fear to
exasperate their finny feelings by reducing them to effigies. Thetis is
very spiteful, sometimes; and jealous, too, you remember."
Miss Pyne did not remember, but did not mean to be baffled either, she
would let Miss Harz know, even if that lady _did_ know more about
mythology than herself; and, if no one else would join her, meant to
play her _role_, of sea-nymph all alone, with Major Latrobe for her
Triton in waiting, tooting upon a conch-shell, and looking lovely! At
which compliment, open and above-board, poor Major Latrobe, who was over
head and ears in love with her, and a very ugly man, only bowed and
looked more silly than before, which seemed a work of supererogation.
After the rest were gone, Miss Lamarque and I concluded to promenade on
the nearly-deserted deck, in the moonlight, and let the excitement of
the evening die away through the medium of more serious conversation.
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