The chief steward, with that anxious civility which beauty can inspire in even so great a personage, conducted her to her seat beside me.

I confess that though I was at once absorbed in this occurrence, I noticed also that some of the ladies present smiled significantly when they saw at whose table Mrs.
Falchion was placed, and looked not a little ironically at the purser, who, as it was known, always tried to get for his table the newest addition to the passenger list--when it was a pretty woman.

I believe that one or two rude people chaffed the chief steward about "favouring the doctor"; but he had a habit of saying uncomfortable things in a deferential way, and they did not pursue the subject.

Then they commiserated the purser, who was an unpleasant little Jew of an envious turn of mind; and he, as I was told, likened me to Sir John Falstaff.
I was sensitive in those days, and this annoyed me, particularly that I had had nothing to do with placing Mrs.Falchion at my table.

We are always most sensitive when guilty concerning the spirit and not the letter.
One who has lived the cosmopolitan life of London should be quick at detecting nationalities, but I found it difficult, even after I heard her speak, to guess at Mrs.Falchion's native land.