The lady who now made her appearance from the inner cabin, though strikingly handsome, had not that in her appearance which would justify the implied eulogium of the British admiral's last speech. There was an appearance of art and worldliness in the expression of her countenance that was only so much the more striking when placed in obvious contrast to the ingenuous nature and calm purity that shone in every lineament of the face of Ghita. One might very well have passed for an image of the goddess Circe; while the other would have made no bad model for a vestal, could the latter have borne the moral impression of the sublime and heart-searching truths that are inculcated by the real oracles of God. Then the lady was a woman in the meridian of her charms, aided by all the cunning of the toilet and a taste that was piquant and peculiar, if not pure; while the other stood in her simple, dark Neapolitan bodice and a head that had no other ornament than its own silken tresses; a style of dress, however, that set off her faultless form and winning countenance more than could have been done by any of the devices of the mantua-maker or the milliner. The lady betrayed a little surprise, and perhaps a shade of uneasiness, as her glance first fell on Ghita; but, much too good an actress to be disconcerted easily, she smiled and immediately recovered her ease. "Is _this_ the being, Nelson, who comes with _such_ a petition?" she demanded, with a touch of natural womanly sensibility in her voice; "and that poor old man, I dare say, is the heart-stricken father." "As to the errand, you will remember, I know nothing as yet, and pledge myself to nothing." "Captain Cuffe, I hope I have the pleasure to see you well. Sir William joins the admiral in hoping you will make one of our little family party to-day at dinner, and--" "And what says the mistress--not of the house, but of the _ship_?" put in Nelson, whose eyes had scarce turned an instant from the face of the siren since she entered the fore-cabin. "That she--always disclaiming the title, honorable though it be--that she unites with all the rest in inviting Captain Cuffe to honor us with his company. Nelson tells me you were one of his old Agamemnons, as he calls you all, aged and young, men and boys, little and big; and I love even the sound of the name. What a glorious title for a ship-- Agamemnon!--A Greek, led on by a true English heart!" "Aye, it _is_ somewhat better than 'That'll Do,' and the other affair, ha! Cuffe!" returned the admiral, smiling and glancing at his subordinate; "but all this time we are ignorant of the errand of this honest-looking Italian and his exceedingly innocent-looking companion."