Constantinople. She was a very pretty young Austrian, only seventeen,
but such an old "Turk of a husband" as she had! Her mother was a
Viennese, and her father a wealthy Englishman: what could have induced
them to marry their pretty young daughter to such a man? He was a
Greek by descent, but had always lived in Constantinople. Short,
stout, cross-eyed, with a most sinister expression of countenance,
old enough to be her father, the contrast was most striking. His wife
seemed very happy, however, and remarked in a complacent tone that her
husband was _quite_ European. So he was, except that he wore a red
fez cap, which was, to say the least, not "becoming" to his "style of
beauty."

[Illustration: AMMALE.]

We had a smooth passage to Corfu, where we touched for an hour or
two. N---- and I went on shore, climbed to the old citadel, and were
rewarded with a glorious view of the island and the harbor at our
feet. We picked a large bouquet of scarlet geraniums and other flowers
which grew wild on the rocks around the old fortress, took a short
walk through the town, and returned to our boat loaded with delicious
oranges fresh from the trees. Several fine English yachts lay in
the harbor. We passed close to one, and saw on the deck three ladies
sitting under an awning with their books and work. The youngest was a
very handsome girl, in a yacht-dress of dark-blue cloth and a jaunty
sailor hat. What a charming way to spend one's winter! After our taste
of the English climate in February, I should think all who could would
spend their winters elsewhere; and what greater enjoyment than,
with bright Italian skies above, to sail over the blue waters of the
Mediterranean, running frequently into port when one felt inclined
for society and sight-seeing, or when a storm came on! for the "blue