"
"Poor dear!" said the matronly Mrs. Noah, sympathetically. "I know exactly
how you feel. I have been there myself. The fourth day out I and my whole
family were in the same condition, except that Noah, my husband, was so
very far gone that I could not afford to yield. I nursed him for six days
before he got his sea-legs on, and then succumbed myself."
"But," gasped Ophelia, "that doesn't help me--"
"It did my husband," said Mrs. Noah. "When he heard that the boys were
sea-sick too, he actually laughed and began to get better right away.
There is really only one cure for the _mal de mer_, and that is the fun of
knowing that somebody else is suffering too. If some of you ladies would
kindly yield to the seductions of the sea, I think we could get this poor
girl on her feet in an instant."
Unfortunately for poor Ophelia, there was no immediate response to this
appeal, and the unhappy young woman was forced to suffer in solitude.
"We have no time for untimely diversions of this sort," snapped Xanthippe,
with a scornful glance at the suffering Ophelia, who, having retired to a
comfortable lounge at an end of the room, was evidently improving. "I have
no sympathy with this habit some of my sex seem to have acquired of
succumbing to an immediate sensation of this nature."
"I hope to be pardoned for interrupting," said Mrs.
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