Not a breath came from the dead air.
Not a ripple stirred on the motionless water.
Nothing changed but the softly-growing light
nothing moved but the lazy mist, curling up
to meet the sun, its master, on the eastward sea
By fine gradations the airy veil of morning thinned
in substance as it rose-thinned, till rays of sunlight
the tall white sails of a Schooner Yacht

Wilkie Collins

Miss or Mrs ?