I am speaking now of the earlier portion of our acquaintance; of her as she was up to this period in her life.
I was not alone in this opinion of her, for, as time went on, every presentable man and woman on the boat was introduced to her; and if some women criticised and some disliked her, all acknowledged her talent and her imperial attraction.

Among the men her name was never spoken but with reserve and respect, and her afternoon teas were like a little court.

She had no compromising tenderness of manner for man or woman; she ruled, yet was unapproachable through any avenues of sentiment.

She had a quiet aplomb, which would be called 'sang-froid' in a man.
"Did you ever see a Spanish-Mexican woman dance ?" she asked in one of the pauses of the music.
"Never: never any good dancing, save what one gets at a London theatre." "That is graceful," she said, "but not dancing.

You have heard of music stirring the blood; of savage races--and others--working themselves up to ecstatic fury?
Maybe you have seen the Dervishes, or the Fijians, or the Australian aboriginals?
No?
Well, I have, and I have seen--which is so much more--those Spanish-Mexican women dance.