FLORA LYNDSAY; OR, PASSAGES IN AN EVENTFUL LIFE. 

 BY MRS. MOODIE. 

 AUTHOR OF “ROUGHING IT IN THE BUSH, ” “MARK HURDLESTONE, ” “LIFE IN THE CLEARINGS, ” ETC. 

 IN TWO VOLUMES. VOL. I. 

 LONDON: RICHARD BENTLEY, NEW BURLINGTON STREET. 1854. 

 LONDON: R. CLAY, PRINTER, BREAD STREET HILL. 

 TO

 MISS GOODING, OF CROMER, IN THE COUNTY OF NORFOLK, THESE VOLUMES ARE AFFECTIONATELY INSCRIBED BY HER ATTACHED FRIEND, SUSANNAH MOODIE. 

 BELLEVILLE, UPPER CANADA. 

CONTENTS OF THE FIRST VOLUME. 

 PAGE CHAPTER I. PAGE MATRIMONIAL DIALOGUE 1

 CHAPTER II. THE OLD CAPTAIN 10

 CHAPTER III. THE OLD CAPTAIN IN PERSON 16

 CHAPTER IV. A VISIT OF CONDOLENCE 25

 CHAPTER V. THE TRUE FRIEND 37

 CHAPTER VI. FLORA’S OUTFIT 43

 CHAPTER VII. HOW MISS WILHELMINA CARR AND FLORA BECAME ACQUAINTED 51

 CHAPTER VIII. MISS WILHELMINA CALLS UPON FLORA 65

 CHAPTER IX. FLORA GOES TO TEA WITH MISS CARR 79

 CHAPTER X. OLD JARVIS AND HIS DOG NEPTUNE 100

 CHAPTER XI. FLORA IN SEARCH OF A SERVANT, HEARS A REAL GHOST STORY 113

 CHAPTER XII. THE LAST HOURS AT HOME 141

 CHAPTER XIII. THE DEPARTURE 152

 CHAPTER XIV. AN OPEN BOAT AT SEA 163

 CHAPTER XV. ONCE MORE AT HOME 173

 CHAPTER XVI. THE FOG 179

 CHAPTER XVII. THE STEAM-BOAT 188

 CHAPTER XVIII. A PEEP INTO THE LADIES’ CABIN 196

 CHAPTER XIX. MRS. DALTON 209

 CHAPTER XX. EDINBURGH 219

 CHAPTER XXI. MRS. WADDEL 226

 CHAPTER XXII. CLIMBING THE MOUNTAIN 237

 CHAPTER XXIII. THE BRIG ANNE 247

 CHAPTER XXIV. A VISIT TO THE SHIP OWNER 257

 CHAPTER XXV. FLORA’S DINNER 266

 CHAPTER XXVI. FEARS OF THE CHOLERA—DEPARTURE FROM SCOTLAND 273

 CHAPTER XXVII. A NEW SCENE AND STRANGE FACES 285

CHAPTER I. 

A MATRIMONIAL DIALOGUE. 

“Flora, have you forgotten the talk we had about emigration, the morningbefore our marriage?” was a question rather suddenly put to his youngwife, by Lieutenant Lyndsay, as he paused in his walk to and fro theroom. The fact is, that he had been pondering over that conversation forthe last hour. 

It had long been forgotten by his wife; who, seated upon the sofa with ayoung infant of three years old in her lap, was calmly watching itssleeping face with inexpressible delight. She now left off her maternalstudies; and looked up at her husband, with an inquiring glance, —

“Why do you ask, dear John?”

“Are you turned Quaker, Flora, that you cannot give one a _direct_answer?”

“I have not forgotten it. But we have been so happy ever since, that Ihave never given it a second thought. What put it into your head justnow?”

“That child—and thinking how I could provide for her, in any other way. ”

“Dear little pet! She cannot add much to our expenses. ” And the motherbent over her sleeping child, and kissed its soft, velvet cheek, with azest that mothers alone know. 

“Not at present. But the little pet will in time grow into a tall girl;and other little pets may be treading upon her footsteps; and they mustall be clothed, and fed, and educated. ”

Flora, in her overflowing happiness, had dismissed all such cruelrealities from her mind. 

“Emigration is a terrible word, John. I wish that it could be expungedfrom our _English_ dictionary. ”

“I am afraid, my dear girl, that you are destined to learn a practicalillustration of its meaning. Nay, don’t look so despondingly. If youintended to remain in England, you should not have married a _poor_man. ”

“Don’t say that, John, or you will make me miserable. Our marriage mademe rich in treasures, which gold could never buy. But seriously, I donot see this urgent necessity for taking such a hazardous step. I knowthat we are not rich—that our expectations on that score for the futureare very limited. We are both the younger children of large families, whose wealth and consequence is now a thing of the past. We have nothingto hope or anticipate from rich relations; but we have enough to becomfortable, and are surrounded with many blessings. Our little girl, whose presence seems to have conjured before you the gaunt image ofpoverty, has added greatly to our domestic happiness. Yes, little MissInnocence! you are awake, are you? Come, crow to papa, and drive theseugly thoughts out of his head. ”

The good father kissed fondly the young thing seducingly held up to him. But he did not yield to the temptation, or swerve from his purpose, though Flora kissed _him_, with eyes brimful of tears. 

“We are indeed happy, love. Too happy, I might say. But will it last?”

“Why not?”

“Our income is _very_ small?” with a deep sigh. 

“It is enough for our present wants. And we have no debts. ”

“Thanks to your prudent management. Yes, we have no debts. But it hasbeen a hard battle, only gained by great self-denial, and much pinching. We have kind friends, too. But Flora, I am too proud to be indebted tofriends for the common necessaries of life; and without doing somethingto improve our scanty means, it might come to that. The narrow incomewhich has barely supplied our wants this year, without the incumbranceof a family, will not do so next. There remains no alternative but to_emigrate_!”

Flora felt that this was pressing her hard. All her affectionateingenuity could not furnish an argument against such home truths. “Letus drop this hateful subject, ” said she, hastily; “I cannot bear tothink about it. ”

“But, my dear girl, we must force ourselves to think about it, calmlyand dispassionately; and having determined which is the path of duty, wemust follow it out, without any reference to our own likes and dislikes. Our marriage would have been a most imprudent one, had it beencontracted on any other terms; and we are both to blame that we haveloitered away so many months of valuable time in happy ease, when weshould have been earning independence for ourselves and our family. ”

“You may be right, John, —yes, I know that you are right. But it is nosuch easy matter to leave your home and country, and the dear friendswhose society renders life a blessing and poverty endurable—to abandon acertain good for an uncertain better, to be sought for among untrieddifficulties. I would rather live in a cottage in England, upon brownbread and milk, than occupy a palace on the other side of the Atlantic. ”

“This sounds very prettily in poetry, Flora; but, my dear girl, life ismade up of stern realities, and it is absolutely necessary for us toprovide against the dark hour before it comes suddenly upon us. Ourfuture prospects press upon my heart and brain too forcibly to beneglected. I have thought long and painfully upon the subject, and Ihave come to the resolution to emigrate this spring. ”

“So soon?”

“The sooner the better. The longer we defer it, the more difficulties weshall have to encounter. The legacy left you by your aunt will pay ourexpenses out, and enable us, without touching my half-pay, to purchase afarm in Canada. ”

“Canada!”

Flora’s eye brightened. 

“Oh, I am so glad that it is not to the Cape of Good Hope!”

“In this decision, Flora, I have yielded to _your_ wishes. My _own_inclinations would lead me back to a country where I have dear friends, a large tract of land, and where some of the happiest years of my lifewere spent. You are not wise, Flora, to regard the Cape with suchhorror. No person would delight more in the beautiful and romanticscenery of that country than yourself. You have taken up a foolishprejudice against the land I love. ”

“It is not that, dear John. But you know, I have such a terror of thewild beasts—those dreadful snakes and lions! I never should dare to stirbeyond the garden, for fear of being stung or devoured. And then, I havebeen bored to death about the Cape, by our good friends the P——’s, tillI hate the very name of the place!”

“You will perhaps one day find out your error, Flora; and your fears areperfectly absurd! Not wishing to render your emigration more painful, bytaking you to a country to which you are so averse, I have made choiceof Canada, hoping that it might be more to your taste. The only obstaclein the way, is the reluctance you feel at leaving your friends. Am Iless dear to you, Flora, than friends and country?”

This was said so kindly, and with such an affectionate earnestness forher happiness more than his own—for it was no small sacrifice to Lyndsayto give up going back to the Cape—that it overcame all Flora’s obstinatescruples. 

“Oh, no, no!—you are more to me than all the world! I will try andreconcile myself to any change, for your sake!”

“Shall I go first, and leave you with your mother until I have arrangedmatters in Canada?”

“Such a separation would be worse than death! I would rather encounter athousand dangers, than remain in England without you! If it must be, Iwill never say another word against it!”

Here followed a heavy sigh. The young husband kissed the tears from hercheek, and whispered—

“That she was his dear, good girl. ”

And Flora would have followed him to the deserts of Arabia. 

“I have had a long conversation with a very sensible, practical man, ”continued Lyndsay, “who has lately come to England upon colonialbusiness. He has been a settler for some years in Canada, and theaccounts he has given me of the colony are so favourable, and hold outsuch encouragement of ultimate success and independence, that they havedecided me in my choice of making a trial of the backwoods. I promisedto meet him this morning at the Crown Inn (where he puts up), to lookover maps and plans, and have some further talk upon the subject. Ithought, dear, that it was better for me to consult you upon the matterbefore I took any decided steps. You have borne the ill news better thanI expected: so keep up your spirits until I return, which will not belong. ”

Flora remained in deep thought for some time after the door had closedupon her husband. She could now recal every word of that eventfulconversation, which they had held together the morning before theirmarriage, upon the subject of emigration. In the happy prospect ofbecoming his wife, it had not then appeared to her so terrible. 

Faithfully had he reminded her of the trials she must expect toencounter, in uniting her destiny to a poor gentleman, and had pointedout emigration as the only remedy for counteracting the imprudence ofsuch a step; and Flora, full of love and faith, was not hard to bepersuaded. She considered that to be his wife, endowed as he was bynature with so many moral and intellectual qualities, with a fine faceand noble form, would make her the richest woman in the world: thatthere was in him a mine of mental wealth, which could never decrease, but which time and experience would augment, and come what might, she inthe end was sure to be the gainer. 

She argued thus:—“Did I marry a man whom I could not love, merely forhis property, and the position he held in society, misfortune mightdeprive him of these, and a disagreeable companion for life would remainto remind me constantly of my choice. But a generous, talented man likeLyndsay, by industry and prudence may become rich, and then the mostavaricious worlding would applaud the step I had taken. ”

We think after all, that Flora reasoned wisely, and, acting up to herconvictions, did right. The world, we know, would scarcely agree withus; but in matters of the heart, the world is rarely consulted. 

They were married, and, retiring to a pretty cottage upon the sea-coast, confined their expenditure to their limited means, and were contentedand happy, and so much in love with each other and their humble lot, that up to this period, all thoughts upon the dreaded subject ofemigration had been banished from one mind, at least. Flora knew herhusband too well to suspect him of changing a resolution he had onceformed on the suggestion of duty. She felt, too, that he was right, —thatpainful as the struggle was, to part with all dear to her on earth, savehim, that it must be made. “Yes, I can, and will dare all things, mybeloved husband, for your sake, ” she said. “My heart may at times rebel, but I will shut out all its weak complainings. I am ready to follow youthrough good and ill, —to toil for our future maintenance, or live atease. England—my country! the worst trial will be to part from you. ”

CHAPTER II. 

THE OLD CAPTAIN. 

Flora’s reveries were abruptly dispelled by a gentle knock at the door;and her “Come in, ” was answered by a tall, portly, handsome old lady, who sailed into the room in all the conscious dignity of black silk andwhite lawn. 

The handsome old lady was Mrs. Kitson, the wife of the naval officer, whose ready-furnished lodgings they had occupied for the last year. Flora rose to meet her visitor, with the baby still upon her arm. 

“Mrs. Kitson, I am happy to see you. Pray take the easy-chair by thefire. I hope your cough is better. ”

“No chance of that, ” said the healthy old lady, who had never known afit of dangerous illness in her life, “while I continue so weak. Hu—hu—hu—. You see, my dear, that it is as bad as ever. ”

Flora thought that she never had seen a person at Mrs. Kitson’s advancedstage of life with such a healthy, rosy visage. But every one has somepet weakness. Mrs. Kitson’s was always fancying herself ill andnervous. Now, Flora had no very benignant feelings towards the oldlady’s long catalogue of imaginary ailments; so she changed the dreadedsubject, by inquiring after the health of the old Captain, her husband. 

“Ah, my dear, he’s just as well as ever, —nothing in the world ever ailshim; and little he cares for the sufferings of another. This is a greatday with him; he’s all bustle and fuss. Just step to the window, andlook at his doings. It’s enough to drive a sensible woman mad. Talk ofwomen wearing the _smalls_, indeed! it’s a base libel on the sex. Captain Kitson is not content with putting on my apron, but heappropriates my petticoats also. I cannot give an order to my maid, buthe contradicts it, or buy a pound of tea, but he weighs it after thegrocer. Now, my dear, what would you do if the _Leaftenant_ was like myhusband?”

“Really, I don’t know, ” and Flora laughed heartily. “It must be rather atrial of patience to a good housekeeper like you. But what is he about?”she cried, stepping to the window that overlooked a pretty lawn in frontof the house, which commanded a fine view of the sea. “He and old Kellyseem up to their eyes in business. What an assemblage of pots andkettles, and household stuff there is upon the lawn! Are you going tohave an auction?”

“You may well think so; if that were the case, there might be someexcuse for his folly. No; all this dirt and confusion, which once aweek drives me nearly beside myself, is what K—— calls clearing up theship; when he and his man Friday, as he calls Kelly, turn everythingtopsy-turvy, and, to make the muddle more complete, they always choosemy washing-day for their frolic. Pantries and cellars are rummaged over, and everything is dragged out of its place, for the mere pleasure ofmaking a litter, and dragging it in again. 

“Look at the lawn! Covered with broken dishes, earless jugs, crackedplates, and bottomless saucepans, ” continued Mrs. Kitson. “What a dishof nuts for my neighbours to crack! They always enjoy a hearty laugh atmy expense, on Kitson’s clearing-up days. But what does he care for mydistress? In vain I hide up all this old trumpery in the darkest nooksin the cellar and pantry—nothing escapes his prying eyes; and then hehas such a memory, that if he misses an old gallipot he raises a stormloud enough to shake down the house. 

“The last time he went to London, ” pursued the old lady, “I collected avast quantity of useless trash, and had it thrown into the pond behindthe house. Well, when he cleared the decks next time, if he did not missthe old broken crockery, all of which, he said, he meant to mend withwhite lead on rainy days; while the broken bottles, forsooth, he hadsaved to put on the top of the brick wall, to hinder the little boysfrom climbing over to steal the apples! Oh, dear, dear, dear! there wasno end to his bawling, and swearing, and calling me hard names, while hehad the impudence to tell Kelly, in my hearing, that I was the mostextravagant woman in the world. Now, _I_, that have borne him seventeenchildren, should know something about economy and good management; buthe gives me no credit at all for that. He began scolding again to-day, but my poor head could not stand it any longer; so I came over to spenda few minutes with you. ”

The handsome old lady paused to draw breath, and looked so much excitedwith this recapitulation of her domestic wrongs, that Mrs. Lyndsaythought it not improbable she had performed her own part in thescolding. 

As to Flora, she was highly amused by the old Captain’s vagaries. “By-the-bye, ” she said, “had he any luck in shooting this morning? Hewas out by sunrise with his gun. ”

The old lady fell back in her chair, and laughed immoderately. 

“Shooting! Yes, yes, that was another frolic of his. But Kitson’s an oldfool, and I have told him so a thousand times. So you saw him thismorning with the gun?”

“Why, I was afraid he might shoot Lyndsay, who was shaving at thewindow. The captain pointed his gun sometimes at the window, andsometimes at the eaves of the house, but as the gun always missed fire, I began to regain my courage, and so did the sparrows, for they onlychattered at him in defiance. ”

“And well they might. Why, my dear, would you believe it, he had nopowder in his gun! Now, Mrs. Lyndsay, you will perhaps think that I amtelling you a story, the thing is so absurd; yet I assure you that it’sstrictly true. But you know the man. When my poor Nelly died, she leftall her little property to her father, as she knew none of her latehusband’s relations—never was introduced to one of them in her life. Inher dressing-case he found a box of charcoal for cleaning teeth, and inspite of all that I could say or do, he insisted that it was_gunpowder_. ‘Gunpowder!’ says I, ‘what would our Nelly do withgunpowder? It’s charcoal, I tell you. ’”

“Then he smelt it, and smelt it—‘’Tis gunpowder, Sally! Don’t you think, that I know the smell of gunpowder? I, that was with Nelson atCopenhagen and Trafalgar?’

“‘’Tis the snuff in your nose, that makes everything smell alike;’ saysI. ‘Do you think, that our Nelly would clean her beautiful white teethwith gunpowder?’

“‘Why not?’ says he; ‘there’s charcoal in gunpowder. And now, Madam, ifyou dare to contradict me again, I will shoot you with it, to prove thetruth of what I say!’

“Well, after that, I held my tongue, though I did not choose to giveup. I thought to spite him, so for once I let him have his own way. Hespent an hour last night cleaning his old rusty gun; and rose thismorning by daybreak with the intention of murdering all the sparrows. Nowonder that the sparrows laughed at him. I have done nothing but laughever since—so out of sheer revenge, he proclaimed a cleaning day; and heand Kelly are now hard at it. ”

Flora was delighted with this anecdote of their whimsical landlord; butbefore she could answer his better-half, the door was suddenly openedand the sharp, keen face of the little officer was thrust into theroom. 

CHAPTER III. 

THE OLD CAPTAIN IN PERSON. 

“Mrs. Lyndsay, my dear; that nurse of yours is going to hang out yourclothes in front of the sea. Now, it’s hardly _decent_ of her, to exposefemale garments to every boat that may be passing. ”

The Captain’s delicacy threw poor Flora nearly into convulsions oflaughter—while he continued, rather pettishly—

“She knows no more how to handle a rope than a pig. If you will justtell her to wait a bit, until I have overhauled my vessel, I will put upthe ropes for you myself. ”

“And hang out the clothes for you, Mrs. Lyndsay, if you will only givehim the treat—and then, he will not shock the sensitive nerves of thesailors, by hanging them near the sea, ” sneered the handsome old lady. 

“I hate to see things done in a lubberly manner, ” muttered the old tar. 

“Oh, pray oblige him, Mrs. Lyndsay. He is such an old woman. I wonder hedoes not ask your permission to let him wash the clothes. ”

“Fresh water is not my element, Mrs. Kitson, though I have long knownthat _hot_ water is yours. I never suffer a woman to touch my ropes, andMrs. Lyndsay borrowed those ropes this morning of me. Don’t interruptme, Mrs. K. ; attend to your business, and leave me to mine. Put astopper upon that clapper of yours; which goes at the rate of ten knotsan hour—or look out for squalls. ”

In the hope of averting the storm, which Flora saw was gathering on theold man’s brow, and which in all probability had been brewing all themorning, she assured the Captain, that he might take the command of hernurse, ropes, clothes, and all. 

“Mrs. Lyndsay, —you are a sensible woman, —which is more than I can say ofsome folks, ” glancing at his wife; “and I hope that you mean to submitpatiently to the yoke of matrimony; and not pull one way, while yourhusband pulls the other. To sail well together on the sea of life, youmust hold fast to the right end of the rope and haul in the samedirection. ”

His hand was upon the lock of the door, and the old lady had madeherself sure of his exit, and was comfortably settling herself for afresh spell of gossip at his expense, when he suddenly returned to thesofa on which Flora was seated; and putting his mouth quite close to herear, while his little inquisitive grey eyes sparkled with intensecuriosity, said, in a mysterious whisper, “How is this, my dear—I hearthat you are going to leave us?”

Flora started with surprise. Not a word had transpired of theconversation she had lately held with her husband. Did the old Captainpossess the gift of second-sight? “Captain Kitson, ” she said, in ratheran excited tone; while the colour flushed up into her face, “Who toldyou so?”

“Then it is true?” and the old fox rubbed his hands and nodded his head, at the success of his stratagem. “Who told me?—why I can’t say, who toldme. You know, where there are servants living in the house, and wallsare thin—news travels fast. ”

“And when people have sharp ears to listen to what is passing in theirneighbours’ houses, ” muttered the old lady, in a provoking aside, “newstravels faster still. ”

Flora was annoyed beyond measure at the impertinent curiosity of theinquisitive old man. She felt certain that her conversation with herhusband had been overheard. She knew that Captain Kitson and his wifewere notable gossips, and it was mortifying to know that their secretplans in a few hours would be made public. She replied coldly, “CaptainKitson, you have been misinformed; we may have talked over such a thingin private as a matter of speculation, but nothing at present has beendetermined. ”

“Now, my dear, that won’t do; leave an old sailor to find out a rat. Itell you that ’tis the common report of the day. Besides, is not the_Leaftenant_ gone this morning with that scapegrace, Tom W——, to hearsome lying land-shark preach about Canada. ”

“Lecture! Kitson, ” said the old lady, who was not a whit behind herspouse in wishing to extract the news, though she suffered him to be theactive agent in the matter. 

“Lecture or preach, it’s all one; only the parson takes his text fromthe Bible to hold forth upon, and these agents, employed by the CanadaCompany, say what they can out of their own heads. The object in both isto make money. I thought the _Leaftenant_ had been too long in a colonyto be caught by chaff. ”

“My husband can judge for himself, Captain Kitson. He does not need theadvice, or the interference of a third person, ” said Flora, colouringagain. And this time she felt really angry; but there was no shaking theold man off. 

“To be sure—to be sure, ” said her tormentor, without taking the smallestnotice of her displeasure; “people are all wise in their own eyes. Butwhat is Canada to you, my dear? A fine settler’s wife you will make;nervous and delicate, half the time confined to your bed with somecomplaint or other. And then, when you are well, the whole blessed dayis wasted in reading and writing, and coddling up the babby. I tell youthat sort of business will not answer in a rough country like Canada. Iwas there often enough during the American war, and I know that thecountry won’t suit you, —no, nor you won’t suit the country. ”

Finding that Mrs. Lyndsay made no answer to this burst of eloquence, hecontinued, in a coaxing tone—

“Now, just for once in your life, my dear, be guided by older and wiserheads than your own, and give up this foolish project altogether. Letwell alone. You are happy and comfortable where you are. This is a nicecottage, quite large enough for your small family. Fine view of the seafrom these front windows, and all ready furnished to your hand, —nothingto find of your own but plate and linen; a pump, wood-house andcoal-bin, and other conveniences, —all under one roof. An oven—”

“Stop, ” cried the old lady, “you need say nothing about that, Kitson. The oven is good for nothing. It has no draught; and you cannot put afire into it without filling the house with smoke. ”

“Pshaw!” muttered the old man. “A little contrivance would soon put thatto rights. ”

“I tried my best, ” retorted the wife, “and I could never bake a loaf ofbread in it, fit to eat. ”

“We all know what bad bread you make, Mrs. Kitson, ” said the captain. “Iknow that it can be baked in; so hold your tongue, Madam! and don’tcontradict me again. At any rate, there’s not a smoky chimney in thehouse, which after all is a less evil than a cross wife. The house, Isay, is complete from the cellar to the garret. And then, the rent—why, what is it? A mere trifle—too cheap by one half, —only twenty-five poundsper annum. I don’t know what possessed me, to let it so low; and then, my dear, the privilege you enjoy in my beautiful flower-garden and lawn. There is not many lodging-houses in the town could offer suchadvantages, and all for the _paltry_ consideration of twenty-five poundsa-year. ”

“The cottage is pretty, and the rent moderate, Captain, ” said Flora. “Wehave no fault to find, and you have not found us difficult to please. ”

“Oh, I am quite contented with my tenants; I only want them to know whenthey are well off. Look twice before you leap once—that’s my maxim; andgive up this mad Canadian project, which I am certain will end indisappointment. ”

And with this piece of disinterested advice, away toddled our gallantnaval commander, to finish with Kelly the arrangement of his pots andkettles, and superintend the right adjustment of the clothes-lines, andthe hanging out of Mrs. Lyndsay’s clothes. 

Do not imagine, gentle reader, that this picture is over-charged. Captain Kitson is no creature of romance, (or was not, we should rathersay; for he has long since been gathered to his fathers); but a brave, uneducated man; who during the war had risen from before the mast to therank of Post Captain. He had fought at Copenhagen and Trafalgar, anddistinguished himself in many a severe contest on the main during thosestirring times, and bore the reputation of a dashing naval officer. Atthe advanced age of eighty, he retained all his original ignorance andvulgarity; and was never admitted into the society which his rank in theservice entitled him to claim. 

The restless activity which in the vigour of manhood had rendered him auseful and enterprising seaman, was now displayed in the most ridiculousinterference in his own domestic affairs, and those of his neighbours. With a great deal of low cunning, he mingled the most insatiablecuriosity; while his habits were so penurious, that he would stoop toany meanness to gain a trifling pecuniary advantage for himself or hisfamily. 

He speculated largely in old ropes, condemned boats and sea-tackle ofall description, whilst as consul for the port, he had manyopportunities of purchasing wrecks of the sea, and the damaged cargoesof foreign vessels, at a cheap rate; and not a stone was left unturnedby old Kitson, if by the turning a copper could be secured. 

The meddling disposition of the old Captain, rendered him the terror ofall the fishermen on the coast, over whom his sway was despotic. Hesuperintended and ordered all their proceedings, with an authority asabsolute as though he were still upon the deck of his war-ship, and theywere subjected to his imperious commands. Not a boat could be put off, or a flag hoisted, without he was duly consulted and apprised of thefact. Not a funeral could take place in the town, without Kitson callingupon the bereaved family, and offering his services on the mournfuloccasion, securing to himself by this simple manœuvre, an abundantsupply of black silk cravats and kid gloves. 

“Never lose anything, my dear, for the want of _asking_, ” he would say. “A refusal breaks no bones, and there is always a chance of getting whatyou ask. ”

Acting upon this principle, he had begged favours of all the great menin power; and had solicited the interest of every influential person whohad visited the town, during the bathing season, for the last twentyyears, on his behalf. His favourite maxim practically carried out, hadbeen very successful. He had obtained, for the mere trouble of asking, commissions in the army and navy for all his sons, and had got all hisgrandsons comfortably placed in the Greenwich or Christ Church schools. 

He had a garden too, which was at once his torment and his pride. Duringthe spring and summer months, the beds were dug up and remodelled, three or four times during the season, to suit the caprice of the owner, while the poor drooping flowers were ranged along the grass-plot towither in the sun during the process, and

 “Waste their sweetness on the desert air. ”

This he termed putting his borders into ship-shape. 

The flower-beds which skirted the lawn, a pretty grass plot containingabout an acre of ground, surrounded by tall poplar trees, were regularlysown with a succession of annuals, all for the time being of one sortand colour. For several weeks, innumerable quantities of double crimsonstocks flaunted before your eyes, so densely packed, that scarcely ashade of green relieved the brilliant monotony. These were succeeded bylarkspurs, and lastly by poppies, that reared their tall, gorgeous headsabove the low, white railing, and looked defiance on all beholders. 

Year after year presented the same spectacle, and pounds of stocks, larkspur and poppy seeds, were annually saved by the eccentric old man, to renew his floral show. 

Tom W——, who was enchanted with the Captain’s oddities, had nick-namedthe marine cottage _Larkspur Lodge_. 

CHAPTER IV. 

A VISIT OF CONDOLENCE. 

The news of Lieutenant Lyndsay’s intended emigration spread likewild-fire through the village, and for several days formed the theme ofconversation. The timid shrugged their shoulders, and drew closer totheir own cosy fire-sides, and preferred staying at home to tempting thedangers of a long sea-voyage. The prudent said, there was a_possibility_ of success; but it was better to take care of the littleyou had, than run the risk of losing it while seeking for more. —Theworldly sneered, and criticised, and turned the golden anticipations ofthe hopeful and the benevolent into ridicule, prophesyingdisappointment, ruin, and a speedy return. Lyndsay listened to all theirremarks, endeavoured to combat unreasonable objections, and removepre-conceived prejudices; but as it was all labour thrown away, hedetermined to abide by the resolution he had formed, and commencedmaking preparations accordingly. 

Flora, who, like many of her sex, was more guided by her feelings thanher reason, was terribly annoyed by the impertinent interference ofothers, in what she peculiarly considered, her own affairs. Day afterday she was tormented by visitors, who came to condole with her on theshocking prospects before her. Some of these were kind, well-meaningpeople, who really thought it a dreadful thing, to be forced, at thecaprice of a husband, to leave home, and all its kindred joys, for arude uncultivated wilderness like Canada. To such Flora listened withpatience; for she believed their fears on her account were genuine—theirsympathy sincere. 

There was only one person in the whole town whose comments she dreaded, and whose pretended concern she looked upon as a real _bore_—this wasMrs. Ready, the wife of a wealthy merchant, who was apt to considerherself the great lady of the place. 

The dreaded interview came at last. Mrs. Ready had been absent on avisit to London; and the moment she heard of the intended emigration ofthe Lyndsays to Canada, she put on her bonnet and shawl, and rushed tothe rescue. The loud, double rat-tat-tat at the door, announced anarrival of more than ordinary consequence. 

“O!” sighed Flora, pushing away her desk, at which she was writingletters of importance, “I know that knock!—that disagreeable Mrs. Readyis come at last!”

Before Mrs. Ready enters the room, I may as well explain to the reader, what sort of an intimacy existed between Flora Lyndsay and HarrietReady, and why the former had such a repugnance to a visit from thelast-mentioned lady. 

Without the aid of animal magnetism (although we have no doubt that itbelongs to that mysterious science) experience has taught us all, thatthere are some natures that possess certain repellent qualities, whichnever can be brought into affinity with our own—persons, whom we like ordislike at first sight, with a strong predilection for the one almostamounting to love, with a decided aversion to the other, which in someinstances almost merges into downright hate. 

These two ladies had no attraction for each other: they had not athought or feeling in common; and they seldom met without a certainsparring, which, to the looker-on, must have betrayed how matters stoodbetween them. 

But why did they meet, if such were the case?

It would be true wisdom in all such repellent natures to keep apart. Worldly prudence, and the conventional rules of society, compel personsto hide these secret antipathies—nay, even to present the most smilingexterior to those whom they often least respect. 

The fear of making enemies, of being thought ill-natured and capricious, or even of making the objects of their aversion persons of too muchconsequence, by keeping them aloof, are some of the reasons we haveheard alleged for these acts of mental cowardice. 

Mrs. Ready was a low-born woman, and Flora belonged to a very old andrespectable family. Mrs. Ready wished to rise a step higher in thesocial scale, and, thinking that Flora might aid her ambitious views, she had, after the first calls of ceremony had been exchanged, clung toher with a pertinacity which all Mrs. Lyndsay’s efforts to free herselfhad been unable to shake off. 

Mrs. Ready was a woman of great pretensions, and had acquired aninfluence among her own set by assuming a superiority to which, inreality, she had not the slightest claim. She considered herself abeauty—a wit—a person of extraordinary genius, and possessed of greatliterary taste. The knowledge of a few botanical names and scientificterms, which she sported on all occasions, had conferred upon her thetitle of a learned woman; while she talked with the greatest confidenceof her acquirements. _Her_ paintings—_her_ music—_her_ poetry, werewords constantly in her mouth. A few wretched daubs, some miserableattempts at composition, and various pieces of music, played withouttaste, and in shocking bad time, constituted all her claims to literarydistinction. Her confident boasting had so imposed upon the goodcredulous people among whom she moved, that they really believed her tobe the talented being she pretended. 

A person of very moderate abilities can be spiteful; and Mrs. Ready wasso censorious, and said when offended such bitter things, that herneighbours tolerated her impertinence out of a weak fear, lest theymight become the victims of her slanderous tongue. 

Though living in the same house with her husband, whose third wife shewas, they had long been separated, only meeting at their joyless meals. Mrs. Ready considered her husband a very stupid animal, and did not failto make both him and her friends acquainted with her opinion. 

“There is a fate in these things, ” she observed, “or you would never seea person of _my_ superior intellect united to a creature like _that_. ”

The world recognised a less important agency in the ill-starred union. Mrs. Ready was poor, and had already numbered thirty years, when sheaccepted the hand of her wealthy and despised partner. 

No wonder that Flora, who almost adored her husband, and was a woman ofsimple habits and pretensions, should dislike Mrs. Ready: it would havebeen strange indeed if persons so differently constituted, could havemet without antagonism. 

Mrs. Ready’s harsh unfeminine voice and manners; her assumption oflearning and superiority, without any real title to either, were veryoffensive to a proud sensitive mind, which rejected with disdain thepatronage of such a woman. Flora had too much self-respect, not to say_vanity_, to tolerate the insolence of Mrs. Ready. She had met all heradvances towards a closer intimacy with marked coldness; which, insteadof repelling, seemed only to provoke a repetition of the vulgar, forcingfamiliarity, from which she intuitively shrank. 

“Mrs. Lyndsay, ” she was wont to say, when that lady was absent, “is ayoung person of some literary taste, and with the advice and assistanceof a friend (herself of course) she may one day become an accomplishedwoman. ”

Lyndsay was highly amused at the league, offensive and defensive, carried on by his wife and Mrs. Ready, who was the only _blue stocking_in the place; and he was wont to call her Flora’s Mrs. _Grundy_. 

But _Mrs. Grundy_ is already in the room, and Flora has risen to meether, and proffer the usual meaningless salutations of the day. To theseher visitor returns no answer, overwhelmed as she is with astonishmentand grief. 

“Mrs. Lyndsay!” she exclaimed, sinking into the easy chair placed forher accommodation, and lifting up her hands in a tragic ecstasy—“Is ittrue—true, that you are going to leave us? I cannot believe it; it is soabsurd—so ridiculous—the idea of your going to Canada. Do tell me that Iam misinformed; that it is one of old Kitson’s idle pieces of gossip;for really I have not been well since I heard it. ”

Mrs. Ready paused for breath, and applied her handkerchief to her eyes. 

Flora remained silent and embarrassed. What could she say? She placed noconfidence in the grief of the weeping lady, and despised theaffectation of her tears—till she gasped forth—

“Do not leave me in suspense; I would rather hear the truth at once. Areyou really going to Canada?”

“I believe so. That is, if no untoward circumstances arise to preventit. ”

“Good heavens!—And you can regard such a dreadful event with suchstoical indifference? Why does not your mother exert her authority, tomake you give up such a mad project?”

“My mother would never interfere with my husband’s wishes, particularlywhen she considers them reasonable, and knows that no real objectionscan be offered on the subject. ”

“But think of the dreadful sacrifice!”

“Such sacrifices are made every day. Emigration, Mrs. Ready, is a matterof necessity, not of choice. Mr. Lyndsay thinks it necessary for us totake this step, and I have no doubt that he is right. Did I consult myown feelings, I should certainly prefer staying at home. ”

“Of course you would, and you affect this unconcern on purpose to hidean aching heart. My dear, you cannot deceive me; I see through it all. Ipity you, my sweet friend; I sympathise with you, from my very soul; Iknow what your _real_ feelings are; I can realize it all. ”

Flora remained silent. She certainly did wish that Mrs. Ready occupiedany other place in the United Kingdom at that moment than thecomfortable seat in her easy chair. But what could she do? She could notinform the lady that she was tired of her company, and wished to bealone. That would be considered an act of ill-breeding of the mostflagrant description; in common courtesy she was compelled to act a lie. 

Rather irritated at the small impression her eloquence had made upon hercompanion, Mrs. Ready removed the cambric screen from her face, on whichnot a trace of grief could be found, and clasping her hands vehementlytogether, continued, —

“Your husband is mad, to draw you away from all your friends at amoment’s warning! I would remonstrate—I would not go; I would exert aproper spirit, and force him to abandon this Quixotic expedition. ”

“You speak hastily, Mrs. Ready. Why should I attempt to prevent anundertaking in which I most cordially concur, and which Mr. Lyndsaythinks would greatly benefit his family?”

“Nonsense! I hate, I repudiate such passive obedience, as beneath thedignity of woman! I am none of your soft bread-and-butter wives, whoconsider it their _duty_ to become the mere _echo_ of their husbands. If _I_ did not wish to go, no tyrannical lord of the creation, falselyso called, should compel me to act against my inclinations. ”

“Compulsion is not necessary: on this subject we both agree. ”

“Oh, yes, I see how it is!” with a contemptuous curl of the lip, “youaspire to the character of a good, dutiful wife, —to become an example ofenduring patience to all the refractory conjugals in the place, myselfamong the rest. I understand it all. How _amiable_ some people can be atthe expense of others!”

Flora was thunderstruck. “Indeed, Mrs. Ready, I meant no reflection uponyou. My words had no personal meaning; I never talk _at_ any one. ”

“Oh, certainly not! You are not aware, ” with a strong sneer, “of thedifferences that exist between Mr. Ready and me (and which will continueto exist, as long as mind claims a superiority over matter); that we areonly husband and wife in name. But I forgive you. ”

“You have nothing to forgive, Mrs. Ready, ” said Flora, indignantly; “Inever trouble my head with your private affairs—they cannot possiblyconcern me. ”

This gave rise to a scene. Mrs. Ready, who lived in an element ofstrife, delighted in scenes. 

“Oh, no, ” she continued, eagerly clutching at Flora’s last words, “youare _too_ selfishly engrossed with your own happiness to have the leastsympathy for the sorrows of a friend. Ah, well!—It’s early days withyou _yet_! Let a few short years of domestic care pass over your head, and all this honey will be changed to gall. Matrimony is matrimony, andhusbands are husbands, and wives will strive to have their own way—ay, and will fight to get it too. You will then find, Mrs. Lyndsay, thatvery little of the sugar of love, and all such romantic stuff, remainsto sweeten your cup; and in the bitterness of your soul, you will thinkof me. ”

“If this is true, ” said Flora, “who would marry?”

“It is true in my case. ”

“But fortunately there are exceptions to every rule. ”

“Humph!—This is another compliment, Mrs. Lyndsay, at my expense. ”

“Mrs. Ready, I do not wish to quarrel with you; but you seem determinedto take all my words amiss. ”

A long silence ensued, —Mrs. Ready smoothed down her ruffled plumes, andsaid, in a pitying, patronising tone, very common to her—

“You will be disgusted with Canada: we shall see you back in less thantwelve months. ”

“Not very likely, if I know anything of John and myself. ”

“What will you do for society?”

Flora thought, solitude would be a luxury and Mrs. Ready away—and sheanswered, carelessly, “We must be content with what Providence sendsus. ”

“Ah! but you may be miles from any habitation. No church—no schools forthe children—no markets—no medical attendant—and with your poorhealth—think of that, Mrs. Lyndsay! And worse, far worse, no friends tosympathise and condole with you, in distress and difficulty. ”

Now Flora was answering all these objections in her own mind; and, quiteforgetful of Mrs. Ready’s presence, she unconsciously uttered herthoughts aloud—“These may be evils, but we shall at least be spared theannoyance of disagreeable visitors. ”

Imprudent Flora—to think aloud before such a woman as Mrs. Ready. Whowill venture to excuse such an eccentric proceeding? Would not the wholeworld blame you for your incorrigible blunder? It had, however, one goodeffect. It quickly cleared the room of your intrusive guest; who sweptout of the apartment with a haughty “Good morning. ” And well she mightbe offended; she had accidentally heard the truth, which no one else inthe town dared have spoken boldly out. 

Flora was astonished at her want of caution. She knew, however, that itwas useless to apologise; and she felt perfectly indifferent as to theresult; for she did not care, if she never saw Mrs. Ready again; andsuch a decided affront would render that event something more thandoubtful. 

“Thank heaven! she is gone, ” burst heartily from her lips, when shefound herself once more alone. 

It was impossible for Mrs. Lyndsay to contemplate leaving Englandwithout great pain. The subject was so distressing to her feelings, thatshe endeavoured to forget it as much as she could. The manner in whichit had been forced upon her by Mrs. Ready, was like probing a deep woundwith a jagged instrument; and after that lady’s departure, she coveredher face with her hands, and wept long and bitterly. 

CHAPTER V. 

THE TRUE FRIEND. 

Flora Lyndsay was aroused from the passionate indulgence of grief by twoarms being passed softly around her neck, and some one pulling her headgently back upon their shoulder, and kissing her forehead. 

“Flora, ” whispered a sweet, gentle woman’s voice; “Dear Flora. I am comehome at last. What, no word of welcome? No kiss for Mary? In tears, too. What is the matter? Are you ill? Is the baby ill? No—she at least issleeping sweetly, and looks full of rosy health. Do speak, and tell methe meaning of all this!”

Flora was in the arms of her friend before she had ceased speaking. “Athousand welcomes! dear Mary. You are the very person I most wished justnow to see. The very sight of you is an antidote to grief. ‘A remedy forsore eyes, ’ as the Irish say. You have been too long away. When did youarrive?”

“By the mail—about an hour ago. ”

“And your dear sister—?”

“Is gone to a happier home, ” said Mary Parnell, in a faltering voice;and glancing down at her black dress, she continued, “she died happy—sohappy, dear Flora, and now—she is happier still. But, we will not speakof her just now, Flora; I cannot bear it. Time, which reconciles us toevery change, will teach me resignation to the Divine will. But ah! ’tisa sore trial to part with the cherished friend and companion of ourearly years. We were most attached sisters. Our hearts were one—andnow—”

There was a pause. Both friends wept. Mary first regained her composure. 

“How is Lyndsay? Has he finished writing his book?”

“The book is finished, and accepted by Mr. Bentley. ”

“That is good, excellent news; and the darling baby?”

“Little Dormouse. There she lies at the end of the sofa, covered by myshawl. She has been sleeping ever since breakfast. I think she onlywakes up to amuse papa. But she is beginning to stretch herself, andhere comes the head-nurse himself. ”

“Our dear Mary, returned!” cried Lyndsay, entering the room. “It seemsan age since you left us. ”

“It has been a melancholy separation to me, ” said Mary. “This parting Ihope will be the last. My father has consented to come and live with mybrother; and now that dear Emily is gone, I shall have no inducement toleave home, so you will have me all to yourselves, whenever I can stealan hour from my domestic duties; and we shall once more be so happytogether. ”

Lyndsay looked at Flora, but neither spoke. Mary saw in a moment thatthere was some hidden meaning in that quick, intelligent glance; and sheturned anxiously from one to the other. 

“What mischief have you been plotting, during my absence?” cried theaffectionate girl, taking a hand of each. “Some mystery is here—I readit in your eyes. I come to you striving to drown the remembrance of myown heavy sorrow, that we might enjoy a happy meeting: I find Flora intears, and you, Lyndsay, looking grave and melancholy. What does it allmean?”

“Has not Flora told you?”

“Told me what?”

“That we are about to start for Canada. ”

“Alas! no. This is sad news—worse than I expected. But are you reallydetermined upon going?”

“Our preparations are almost completed. ”

“Worse and worse. I hoped it might be only the whim of the moment—acastle, not of the air, but of the woods—and as easily demolished. ”

“Let us draw back, ” said Flora. “Lyndsay, dearest; the trial is toogreat. ”

“It is too late now, Flora. Depend upon it, love, that God has orderedit, and that we act in conformity to the Divine will, and that all isfor the best. ”

“If such is your belief, my dear friend, ” said Miss Parnell, “far be itfrom me to persuade you to stay. God orders all things for good. Thepresent moment is the prophet of the future. It must decide your fate. ”

“I have not acted hastily in this matter, ” returned Lyndsay. “I havepondered over it long and anxiously, and I feel that my decision isright. The grief poor Flora feels at parting with her friends, is thegreatest drawback. I thought that she possessed more strength ofendurance. As for me, I have passed through the ordeal before, when Ileft Scotland for the Cape of Good Hope; and I now look upon myself as acitizen of the world. I know that Flora will submit cheerfully to thechange, when once we lose sight of the British shores. ”

“This then means the cause of Flora’s tears?”

“Not exactly, ” said Flora, laughing. “That odious Mrs. Ready has beenhere, tormenting me with impertinent questions. ”

“Flora, I’m ashamed of you, ” said Lyndsay, “for suffering yourself to beannoyed by that stupid woman. ”

“And worse than that, dear John, I got into a passion, and affrontedher. ”

“And what did _Mrs. Grundy_ say?”

“Ah! it’s fine fun for you. But if you had been baited by her for acouple of hours, as I was, you could not have stood it much better thanI did. Why, she had the impudence to insist upon my acting in directopposition to your wishes; and all but insinuated that I was a fool notto take her advice. ”

“A very serious offence, indeed, ” said Lyndsay, laughing. “Instigatingmy wife to an act of open rebellion. But I am sure you will not profitby her example. ”

“Indeed, no! She’s the very last woman in the world I should wish toimitate. Still I feel angry with myself for letting my temper get thebetter of prudence. ”

“What a pity, Flora, that you did not fight it out. I would back my goodwife against twenty Mrs. Grundys. ”

“She would scratch my eyes out, and then write a horrid sonnet tocelebrate the catastrophe. ”

“Nobody would read it. ”

“Ah, but she would read it to everybody, and bore the whole town withher lamentations. ”

“Let her go, Flora. I am tired of _Mrs. Grundy_. ”

“Indeed, I was glad enough to get rid of her, which reconciles me to thedisagreeable manner in which I offended her. ”

“Let us talk of your Canadian plans, ” said Mary. “When do you go?”

“In three weeks, ” said Lyndsay. 

“So soon! The time is too short to prepare one to part with friends sodear. If it were not for my poor old father, I would go with you. ”

“What a blessing it would be!” said Lyndsay. 

“Oh! do go, dear Mary, ” cried Flora, quite transported at the thought;and flinging her arms about her friend’s neck. “It would make us sohappy. ”

“It is impossible!” said the dear Mary, with a sigh. “I spoke withoutthinking. My heart will follow you across the Atlantic; but duty keepsme here. I will not, however, waste the time still left to us in uselessregrets. Love is better shown by deeds than words. I can work for you, and cheer you, during the last days of your sojourn in your native land. Employment, I have always found, by my own experience, is the bestremedy for aching hearts. ”

CHAPTER VI. 

FLORA’S OUTFIT. 

Having once matured his plans, Lyndsay hastened to take the necessarysteps to carry them into execution. Leaving Flora and her friend Mary toprepare all the indispensables for the voyage, he hurried to London, toobtain permission from head-quarters to settle in Canada, to arrangepecuniary matters for the voyage, and take leave of a few old and triedfriends. During his absence, Flora and her friend were not idle. Themornings were devoted to making purchases, and the evenings to convertthem into articles for domestic use. There were so many towels to hem, sheets to make, and handkerchiefs and stockings to mark, that Flora sawno end to the work, although assisted by kind sisters, and theindefatigable Mary. 

The two friends held a grand consultation over Flora’s scanty wardrobe, in which there were articles “old and new;” but it must be confessedthat the old and the unfashionable predominated over the new andwell-cut. Flora’s friends were poor, and she had been obliged todispense with a wedding outfit. An old and very rich relation of herfather had presented her with a very elegant wedding-dress, shawl, andbonnet, which was all the finery Flora possessed. Her other dresses werevery plain, and composed of common materials; and if it had not been forthe unexpected bounty of the said rich lady, our bride must have donewithout a wedding-garment at all; for she had earned the few commonnecessaries she took with her to housekeeping with her own hand, inpainting trifles for the bazaars, and writing articles for ladies’magazines. One small trunk contained Flora’s worldly goods and chattels, the night she entered the neatly-furnished lodgings which Lyndsay hadprepared for her as his wife. 

Flora felt almost ashamed of the little she possessed; but herhigh-minded, generous husband took her penniless as she was, andlaughingly assured her that they could never quarrel on the score ofriches; for his wardrobe was nearly as scanty as her own; and, beyond agreat chest of books and music, he had nothing in the world but hishalf-pay. Many a long afternoon Flora spent during her quiet honeymoon(for the month was April, and the weather very wet) in looking overshirts and socks, and putting them into the best habitable repair. Shewas thus employed, when an author of some distinction called upon them, to enjoy half-an-hour’s chat. Flora hid up her work as fast as shecould; but in her hurry, unfortunately, upset her work-basket on thefloor, and all the objectionable garments tumbled out at her guest’sfeet. 

He was young, unmarried and a poet; and this certainly was not apoetical incident. “Mrs. Lyndsay, ” he cried, in a tragic horror—(itwould have been more in good taste to have said nothing about it)—“Areyou forced to devote your valuable time to mending old socks andshirts?”

“They were meant for my _private_ hours, ” said Flora, laughing, as shecollected the fallen articles, and stowed them once more into theirhiding-place. “With _such_ the public has nothing to do. ”

“Well, if ever I marry, I’ll take good care to give away every old thingI have in the world. No wife of mine shall have it to say that she wasforced to mend my rags. ”

“Wait till the time comes, ” said Flora quietly. “You don’t know what mayhappen yet. There are more disagreeable things in every-day life thanmending old clothes. Industry and perseverance may soon replace thesewith new ones; but it is useless to throw away old friends until we aresure of obtaining others as good. ”

Flora had often thought of this scene, and in her overflowing happinesshad blessed God that she had been permitted to share Lyndsay’s poverty. Mending the old clothes had become a privilege. 

Thirty pounds was all that she could now afford to lay out upon herselfand her little one. A small sum, indeed, to the rich, who would haveexpended as much in a single article of dress, but very large in herestimation, whose wants had always been regulated more by the wants ofothers than her own. 

Ignorant of the nature of the colony to which she was about to emigrate, and of the manners and customs of the people among whom she was to finda new home, and of whom she had formed the most laughable and erroneousnotions, many of her purchases were not only useless, but ridiculous. Things were overlooked, which would have been of the greatest service;while others could have been procured in the colony for less than theexpense of transportation. 

Twenty years ago, the idea of anything decent being required in abarbarous desert, such as the woods of Canada, was repudiated asnonsense. 

This reminds one of a gentleman who sent his son, a wild, extravagant, young fellow, with whom he could do nothing at home, to grow tame, andsettle down into a quiet farmer in the Backwoods. The experiment proved, as it always does in such cases, a perfect failure. All parentalrestraint being removed, the young man ran wild altogether, and used hisfreedom as fresh occasion for licentiousness. The prudent father thenwrote out to the gentleman to whose care the son had been consigned, that he had better buy him a wild farm, and a _negro and his wife_ tokeep house for him. 

This, too, after the passing of the Anti-Slavery bill! But, even ifslaves had been allowed in the colony, the horror of _colour_ is asgreat among the native-born Canadians as it is in the United States. Somuch did this otherwise clever man know of the colony to which he senthis unmanageable son!

Flora had been led to imagine that settlers in the Backwoods livedtwenty or thirty miles apart, and subsisted upon game and the wildfruits of the country until their own lands were brought into a state ofcultivation. Common sense and reflection would have pointed this out asimpossible; but common sense is very rare, and the majority of personsseldom take the trouble to think. We have known many persons just aswise as Flora in this respect. It is a fact, however, that Florabelieved these reports, and fancied that her lot would be cast in one ofthose remote settlements, where no sounds of human life were to meet herears, and the ringing of her husband’s axe alone awake the echoes of theforest. 

She had yet to learn, that the proximity of fellow-labourers in thegreat work of clearing is indispensable; that man cannot work alone inthe wilderness, where his best efforts require the aid of hisfellow-men. 

The oft-repeated assertion, that _anything would do for Canada_, wasthe cause of more blunders in the choice of an outfit, than the mostexaggerated statements in its praise. 

Of the fine towns and villages, and the well-dressed population of theimproved districts of the Upper Province, she had not formed theslightest conception. To her fancy, it was a vast region of cheerlessforests, inhabited by unreclaimed savages, or rude settlers doomed toperpetual toil, —a climate of stern vicissitudes, alternating betweenintense heat and freezing cold, and which presented at all seasons agloomy picture. No land of Goshen, no paradise of fruits and flowers, rose in the distance to console her for the sacrifice she was about tomake. The ideal was far worse than the reality. 

Guided by these false impressions, she made choice of articles of dresstoo good for domestic drudgery, and not fine enough to suit the rank towhich she belonged. In this case, extremes would have suited her betterthan a middle course. 

Though fine clothes in the Backwoods may be regarded as useless lumber, and warm stuffs for winter, and good washing calicoes for summer, aremore to be prized than silks and satins, which a few days’ exposure tothe rough flooring of a log-cabin would effectually destroy; yet it isabsolutely necessary to be well dressed when visiting the large towns, where the wealthier classes not only dress well, but expensively. 

In a country destitute of an hereditary aristocracy, and where thepoorest emigrant, by industry and prudence, may rise to wealth andpolitical importance, the appearance which individuals make, and thestyle in which they live, determine their claims to superiority with thepublic, chiefly composed of the same elements with themselves. Thearistocracy of England may be divided into three distinct classes, —thatof family, of wealth, and of talent, —all powerful in their order. Theone which ranks the last should hold its place with the first, for itoriginally produced it; and the second, which is far inferior to thelast, is likewise able to buy the first. The heads of old families aremore tolerant to the great men of genius than they are to theaccumulators of riches; and a wide distinction is made by them betweenthe purse-proud millionaire and the poor man of genius, whose refinedtastes and feelings are more in unison with their own. 

In Canada, the man of wealth has it all his own way; his dollars areirresistible, and the money makes the man. Fine clothes are theresupposed to express the wealth of the possessor; and a lady’s gowndetermines her right to the title, which, after all, presents the lowestclaims to gentility. A runaway thief may wear a fashionably cut coat, and a well-paid domestic flaunt in silks and satins. 

Now, Flora knew nothing of all this; and she committed a great error inchoosing neat and respectable every-day clothing. The handsome, and thevery ordinary, would have answered her purpose much better. 

If “necessity is the mother of invention, ” experience is the handmaid ofwisdom, and her garments fit well. Flora was as yet a novice to theworld and its ways. She had much to learn from a stern and faithfulpreceptress, in a cold, calculating school. 

CHAPTER VII. 

HOW MISS WILHELMINA CARR AND FLORA BECAME ACQUAINTED. 

Among the many persons who called upon Flora to talk over her projectedemigration was a Miss Wilhelmina Carr—a being so odd, so wayward, sounlike the common run of mortals, that we must endeavour to give aslight sketch of her to our readers. We do not possess sufficientartistic skill to do Miss Wilhelmina justice; for if she had notactually lived and walked the earth, and if we had not seen her with ourown eyes, and heard her with our own ears, we should have considered hera very improbable, if not an impossible, variety of the human speciesfeminine. We have met with many absurd people in our journey throughlife, but a more eccentric individual never before nor since has comeunder our immediate observation. 

Flora’s means were far too limited for her to entertain company. Hervisitors were confined entirely to her own family, and a few old andchosen friends, with whom she had been intimate from childhood. How, then, did she become acquainted with this lady? Oddly enough; foreverything connected with Miss Carr was odd, and out of the common way. 

There was a mystery, too, about Miss Carr, which had kept the gossipsbusy for the last four months, and clever and prying as they were—quitemodels in their way—not one of them had been able to come at thesolution of the riddle. 

One hot day during the preceding summer, Miss Wilhelmina walked into thetown, wearing a man’s broad-brimmed straw hat, and carrying a cane inher hand, with a very small dog trotting at her heels. She inquired atthe first hotel in the town for lodgings, and hired two very handsomeapartments of Mrs. Turner, who kept very respectable lodgings, and waspatronised by the best families in the neighbourhood. Miss Wilhelminapaid three months’ rent in advance; she brought no servant, and was tofind her own table, engaging Mrs. Turner to cook and wait upon her. 

Some days after her arrival, two large travelling trunks, and severalwell-filled hampers full of wine of the best quality, were forwarded toher direction, and Miss Carr became one of the lions of the littlewatering-place. 

Who she was, or from what quarter of the world she emanated, nobodycould find out. She had evidently plenty of money at her command, livedas she liked and did what she pleased, and seemed perfectly indifferentas to what others thought of her. 

Her eccentric appearance attracted general attention, for she was norecluse, and spent most of her time in the open air. If your walk layalong the beach, the common, or the dusty high-road, you were sure tomeet Miss Carr and her dog at every turn. 

The excitement regarding her was so great, that most of the ladiescalled upon her in the hope of gratifying their curiosity, and learningsomething about her from her own lips. In this they were quitedisappointed, for Miss Wilhelmina Carr, though she was sitting at thewindow nursing her dog, did not choose to be at home to any one, andnever had the courtesy to return these ceremonious visits. An oldpractised propagator of news waylaid Mrs. Turner in the street, andcross-questioned her in the most dexterous manner concerning hermysterious lodger; but the good woman was either seized with a fit ofunusual prudence, or, like Horace Smith’s mummy—

 “Was sworn to secrecy. ”

There was no getting anything out of her beyond the astounding facts, that Miss Carr smoked out of a long pipe, drank brandy-punch, and hadher table served with all the dainties of the season. “Besides allthis, ” whispered the cautious Mrs. Turner, “she swears like a man. ” Thislast piece of information might be a scandal, the ladies hoped that itwas, but believed and talked about it as a shocking thing, if true, toall their acquaintance, and congratulated themselves that the dreadfulwoman had shown her wisdom in not returning the visits of respectablepeople. 

The person about whom all this fuss was made, was a tall, and very stoutwoman of fifty years of age; but active and energetic looking for hertime of life. Her appearance was eccentric enough to afford ample scopefor all the odd sayings and doings in circulation respecting her. Shehad a satirical, laughing, jolly red face, with very obtuse features;and, in order to conceal hair of a decidedly carroty hue, she wore anelaborately curled flaxen wig, which nearly covered her large forehead, and hung over her eyes like the curly coat of a French poodle dog. Thiswas so carelessly adjusted, that the red and flaxen formed a curiousshading round her face, as their tendrils mingled and twined within eachother. Her countenance, even in youth, must have been coarse and vulgar;in middle life, it was masculine and decidedly ugly, with no redeemingfeature, but the large good-natured mouth, well set with brilliantlywhite teeth—strong, square, even teeth, that seem to express theirowner’s love of good cheer; and silently intimated, that they had nolight duty to perform, and were made expressly for eating. 

Miss Carr, though she sported a man’s hat and carried a cane, dressedexpensively, her outer garments being made of the richest materials;but she wore these so ridiculously short, that her petticoats barelyreached below the middle of her legs; leaving exposed to generalobservation, the only beauty she possessed—a remarkably handsome andneatly made foot and ankle. 

Now, we don’t believe that Miss Carr cared a fig about her handsome legsand feet. If they had belonged to the regular Mullingar breed, she wouldhave shown them as freely to all the world; simply, because she chose todo so. She was a great pedestrian, to whom long petticoats would havebeen uncomfortable and inconvenient. 

If she was vain of anything, it was of her powers of locomotion. She hadmade the tour of Europe on foot and alone, and still continued to walkher ten or fourteen miles a day, let the weather be what it would. Hail, rain, blow, or snow, it was all one to Miss Carr. “She was walking, ” shesaid, “to keep herself in practice, as she was contemplating anotherlong journey on foot. ”

Ida Pfeiffer, the celebrated female traveller, was unknown in thosedays; or Miss Carr might have taken the shine out of that adventurouslady; as easily as the said Ida destroys all the romantic notionspreviously entertained by stay-at-home travellers, about the lands shevisits, and the people who form the subjects of her entertainingmatter-of-fact books. 

When Miss Carr made her _debût_ at church, with her masculine hat placedresolutely on the top of her head, and cane in hand, people could notsay their prayers, or attend to the sermon, for staring and wondering atthe uncouth apparition which had so unceremoniously appeared in themidst of them. This was not diminished, by her choosing to stand duringthose portions of the service, when pious females bend the knee. MissWilhelmina said, “that she was too big to kneel—that her prayers werejust as good in one attitude as another. The soul had no legs or knees, that she could discover—and if the prayers did not come from the heart, they were of no use to her, or to any one else. She had not much faithin prayers of any kind. She never could find out that they had done herthe least good, and if she had to go through a useless ceremony, shewould do it in the most convenient manner. ”

Flora had heard so much about this strange woman, that she had notcalled upon her on her first arrival in the town, though it must beconfessed, that her curiosity was as much excited as her neighbours’. Inher walks to and fro from her mother’s house, who resided within a shortdistance of the town, Flora had often encountered the sturdy pedestrianstumping along at full speed, and she had laughed heartily with herhusband at her odd appearance; at her short petticoats, and the resolutemanner in which she swung her cane, and planted it down upon the ground. She had often wondered how such an elephant of a woman could move sorapidly upon such small feet, which looked as if she had lost her own, and borrowed a pair of some child by the way. 

She was always followed in all her rambles by a diminutive nondescriptkind of dog—a tiny, long-haired, silky looking creature, the colour ofcoffee freshly ground, no bigger than a large squirrel, with brilliantblack eyes, bushy tail, and a pert little face, which greatly resembledthat animal. 

Often, when moving at full speed along the dusty highway, its mistresswould suddenly stop, vociferating at the top of her voice—“Muff! Muff!where are you, my incomparable Muff?” when the queer pet would bound upher dress like a cat, and settle itself down upon her arm, poking itsblack nose into her hand, or rearing up on its hind legs, to lick herface. They were an odd pair, so unlike, so widely disproportioned insize and motion, that Flora delighted in watching all their movements, and in drawing contrasts between the big woman and her small four-footedcompanion. 

By some strange freak of fancy, Lyndsay and his wife had attracted theattention of Miss Carr, who never passed them in her long rambleswithout bestowing upon them a gracious bow and a smile, which displayed, at one gesture, all her glittering store of large, white teeth. 

“I do believe, John, the strange woman means to pick acquaintance withus, ” said Flora to her husband, one fine afternoon during the previoussummer, as they were on their way to spend the evening with her motherat —— Hall. “Instead of passing us at her usual brisk trot, she hasloitered at our pace for the last half-hour, smiling at us, and showingher white teeth, as if she were contemplating the possibility of anintroduction. I wish she would break the ice; for I am dying withcuriosity to know something about her. ”

“You are very foolish, ” said Lyndsay, who was not one of Miss Carr’sadmirers, “to trouble your head about her. These eccentric people areoften great bores; and, if you get acquainted with them, it is not easyto shake them off. She may be a very _improper_ character. I hatemystery in any shape. ”

“Oh, bless you!” said Flora, laughing: “she is too old and ugly forscandal of that sort. I should think, from her appearance, that shenever had had a sweetheart in her life. ”

“There’s no telling, ” returned Lyndsay. “She may be lively and witty. Odd people possess an attraction in themselves. We are so much amusedwith them, that they fascinate us before we are aware. She has a goodfigure for her very voluminous proportions, and splendid trotters, whichalways possess charms for some men. ”

“Now, don’t be censorious, husband dear. If she should speak to us—whatthen?”

“Answer her civilly, of course. ”

“And if she should take it into her head to call upon us?”

“Return it, and let the acquaintance drop. ”

Flora’s love of the ridiculous was her besetting sin. She continued towatch the movements of Miss Carr with mischievous interest, and was asanxious for an interview as Lyndsay was that she should keep herdistance. Flora pressed her hand tightly on her husband’s arm, scarcelyable to keep her delight in due bounds, while she whispered, in atriumphant aside, “John, I was right. She is shaping her course to ourside of the road. She means to speak to us, —and now for it!”

Lyndsay looked annoyed. Flora with difficulty repressed her inclinationto laugh out, as Miss Carr came alongside, and verified Mrs. Lyndsay’sprediction, by commencing the conversation in a loud-toned, but rathermusical voice, “A bright afternoon for your walk. ”

“Beautiful for the time of year, ” said Flora. 

“Rather hot for stout people like me. You seem to enjoy it amazingly. ”

“I am fond of walking. I do not find the heat oppressive. ”

“Ah, yes; you are thin. Have not much bulk to carry; one of Pharaoh’slean kine. It requires a warm day to make your blood circulate freely. Ilike winter and spring best for long rambles. ”

“I should think you would prefer riding, ” said Lyndsay; “yet I see youout every day on foot. ”

“I never ride: I hate and detest riding. I never could be dependent uponthe motions of an animal. Horses are my aversion; jackasses I despise. God, when He gave us legs of our own, doubtless intended us to make useof them. I have used mine ever since I was a baby, and they are not wornout yet. I got upon my feet sooner than most children, and have keptthem to their duty ever since. I am a great walker; I have been walkingall my life. Do you know that I have walked over Europe alone, and onfoot?”

“So I have heard, ” said Lyndsay. “It must have been an arduousundertaking for a lady. ”

“Far easier than you imagine. Women are just as able to shift forthemselves as men, if they would follow my example, and make the trial. I have scarcely sat still for the last twenty years. There is not aremarkable spot in Europe that I have not visited, or mountain but whatI have climbed, or cavern that I have left unexplored. Three years ago Icommenced a pedestrian tour through Great Britain, which I accomplishedgreatly to my own satisfaction. When I take a fancy to a place, I stayin it until I have explored all the walks in the neighbourhood. DirectlyI grow tired, I am off. ’Tis a happy, independent sort of life I lead. Confinement would soon kill me. ”

“Your friends must feel very anxious about you, ” said Flora, “duringyour absence. ”

“Friends! Fiddlesticks! Who told you I had any friends who care a figfor me or my movements? I am gloriously independent, and mean to remainso. There is but one person in the world who is related to me in themost remote degree, or who dares to trouble their head about me or mydoings, and he is only a half brother. He has opposed himself against myfreedom of thought and action; but I don’t care that”—(snapping herfingers vigorously)—“for him or his opinions. He has made war upon myroaming propensities all his life. As if a woman has not as much rightto see the world as a man, if she can pay her own expenses, and bear herown burthen, without being a trouble to any one. It is certainly nobusiness of his how I spend my money, or where and how I pass my life. Not long ago I heard that he was going to issue a writ of lunacy againstme, in order to get me and my property into his possession. This ismean; for he very well knows that I am not mad; and he is very rich, sothat there is no excuse for his avarice. Fortunately, he don’t know mepersonally—never saw me since I was a child—and as I never go by my realname, it is not a very easy matter for him to discover me. I don’t likethis place, but it is quiet and out of the way. I think I shall remainwhere I am, till he gets tired of hunting me out. I trust to yourhonour, young people; you must not betray my secret. ”

Both promised to say nothing about what she had so frankly communicated. 

“I take you at your word, ” continued Miss Carr; “I like your appearance, and would willingly improve my acquaintance. I often watched you from mywindows; and yesterday I asked Mrs. Turner who you were. Her account wasso much in your favour, that I determined to introduce myself the firsttime we accidentally encountered each other. I know your names and whereyou live. May I come and occasionally enjoy an hour’s chat?”

“We shall only be too happy, ” said Flora, in spite of a warning pinchfrom Lyndsay, which said, as plainly as words could have done, “She’smad; as mad as a March hare. ” But Flora would not understand the hint. She felt flattered by the confidence so unexpectedly reposed in them bythe odd creature; and vanity is a great enemy to common sense. 

“Mind, ” said Miss Wilhelmina, turning abruptly to Lyndsay, “I don’t wantto see you at my house. I’m a single woman, and, though not very young, I’m very particular about my character. I never allow a male creature toenter my doors. I’m not fond of men—I have no reason to be fond of them. They never were commonly civil to me; and I hate them generally andindividually. When I come to see your wife of course I don’t expect youto hide out of the way, or peep at me through crannies, as if I were awild beast. I shall call to-morrow morning, and so, good day. 

“Muff! Muff!—My incomparable! my perfect!—What are you doing? Friskingbeside that ugly black cur! He’s no companion for a dog of your breedingand degree. Away, you vulgar-looking brute. ” And running across theroad, she seized hold of a pedlar’s dog, who was having a great game ofromps with her favourite, and gave it a most unjust and unmercifulbelabouring with her cane. 

The pedlar, who was by no means pleased with this outrage against hiscur, now interfered. 

“Don’t lick my dorrg, ma’am, in that ere sort o’ fashun. What harm canthat hanimal ha’ done to you, or that whiskered cat-like thing o’yourn?”

“Hold your impertinent tongue, fellow! or I’ll thrash you, too, ” criedMiss Wilhelmina, flourishing aloft her cane. 

The man eyed her sullenly. “Maybe, you’d beest not try. If you warn’t a’uman I’d give it to ’un. ”

“A lady, sir, ” with great dignity, and drawing herself up to her fullheight. 

“Ladies don’t act in that ere way. You be but a ’uman, and a mad yun, too; that be what you be’s. ”

The next moment Lyndsay expected the cane to descend upon the pedlar’shead, and was ready to rush to the rescue of the fair Wilhelmina. Butno; the lady dropped her cane, burst into a loud fit of laughter, stooped down, patted the offended cur, and, slipping a shilling into thehand of the angry countryman, snatched Muff to her capacious bosom, andwalked off at full trot. 

The pedlar, looking after her for a minute, with his eyes and mouth wideopen in blank astonishment, and then down at the silver glittering inhis hand, cried out, —

“I knows you bees a lady now. If you delights in licking o’ do’rrgs, ma’am, you ma’ thrash Bull as much as you please for sixpence a licking. That’s fair, I thinks. ”

He might as well have shouted to the winds; Miss Wilhelmina was out ofhearing, and Flora and her husband pursued their walk to the hall. 

CHAPTER VIII. 

MISS WILHELMINA CALLS UPON FLORA. 

The breakfast things were scarcely removed the following morning, whenMiss Carr walked into the room, where Flora was employed at herwork-table, in manufacturing some small articles of dress. 

“Your husband is afraid of me, Mrs. Lyndsay: he started off the momenthe saw me coming up to the door. I don’t want to banish him from his ownhouse. ”

“Oh, not at all. He has business in town, Miss Carr. You have favouredme with a very early visit. ”

“Too early? Just speak the truth plainly out. Why the deuce do peopletell so many stories, when it would be far easier to speak the truth? Iassure you, that you look so neat and comfortable in your morningcostume, that you have no reason to be ashamed. I like to come uponpeople unawares, —to see them as they really are. You are welcome to comeand see me in my night-cap, when the spirit moves me. When I’m not outwalking, I’m always at home. Busy at work, too?” she continued, puttinga tiny cap upon her fist. “That looks droll, and tells tales. ”

“Oh, don’t!—do spare me, ” cried Flora, snatching the article from herodd companion, and hiding it away in the table-drawer. “I did not meanthat any one should catch me at this work. ”

“Don’t think, my dear, that I am going to criticise you. I am no judgeof sewing, —never set a stitch in my life. It must be a dull way ofspending time. Can’t you put your needle-work out?”

Flora shook her head. 

“Too poor for that? Mrs. Turner’s daughter takes in all such gimcracks. Send what you’ve got over to her, and I’ll pay for the making. ”

“Miss Carr!” said Flora, greatly distressed. 

“What, angry again?”

“No, not exactly angry; but you wound my pride. ”

“It would do you no harm to kill it outright, ” said Miss Carr, laughing—such a loud, jovial peal of merriment, which rang so clearlyfrom her healthy lungs, that Flora, in spite of her offended dignity, was forced to laugh too. 

“You feel better now. I hope the proud fit is going off, and we canenjoy a reasonable chat. These clothes—what a bore they are, to bothpoor and rich, —the rich setting their heart too much upon them, and thepoor despised because they have not enough to keep them warm, —and thosemean and old. Then, this is not all. There are the perpetual changes ofthe fashions, which oblige people to put on what does not suit them, andto make monstrous frights of themselves to dress in the mode. You musthave a morning-gown, a dinner-dress, and an evening costume; all to beshifted and changed in the same day, consuming a deal of time, whichmight be enjoyed in wholesome exercise. I have no patience with suchfolly. The animals, let me tell you, are a great deal better off thantheir masters. Nature has provided them with a coat which never wantschanging but once a-year; and that is done so gradually, that theyexperience no inconvenience. No need of their consulting the fashions, or patching and stitching to keep up a decent appearance. It is athousand pities that clothes were ever invented. People would have beenmuch healthier, and looked much better without them. ”

“My dear madam, did not God himself instruct our first parents to makegarments of the skins of animals?”

“They were not necessary in a state of innocence, or He would havecreated them like cows and horses, with clothes upon their backs, ” saidWilhelmina, sharply. “It was their own fault that they ever requiredsuch trumpery, entailing upon their posterity a curse as bad as thethorns and thistles. For I always consider it as such, when swelteringunder the weight of gowns and petticoats on a hot day; and I rateMother Eve roundly, and in no measured terms, for her folly in losingthe glorious privilege of walking in buff. ”

“You must have been thinking of that, ” said Flora, rather mischievously, and glancing down at Miss Wilhelmina’s legs, “when you cut yourpetticoats so short. ”

“You are welcome to laugh at any short petticoats, ” said Wilhelmina, “aslong as I feel the comfort of wearing them. Now do tell me, candidly, —what impropriety is there in a woman showing her leg and foot, more than in another woman showing her hand and arm? The evil lies inyour own thoughts. You see the Bavarian buy-a-broom girls passing beforeyour windows every day, with petticoats cut three or four inches shorterthan mine. You perceive no harm in that. ‘It is the fashion of hercountry, ’ you cry. Custom banishes from our minds the idea ofimpropriety; and the naked savage of the woods is as modest as theclosely covered civilian. Now, why am I compelled to wear longpetticoats drabbling in the mud, when a Bavarian may wear hers up to theknees, and nobody think the worse of her? I am as much a free agent asshe is; have as much right to wear what I please. I like shortpetticoats—I can walk better in them—they neither take up the dust orthe mud, and leave my motions free and untrammelled—and what’s more, Imean to wear them. 

“I have tried trowsers; but they fettered me. It is difficult to stow alarge figure like mine away into trowsers. I felt as if my legs were inthe stocks, and kicked them off in disdain—simply remarking—‘what foolsmen are!’ So, you don’t like my short petticoats? and I hate your longones. First, because they are slatternly and inconvenient; secondly, because they make your stockings dirty; and thirdly, because they giveyou the idea that they are intended to conceal crooked legs. So don’tsay one word in their favour. ”

“It is but a matter of taste and opinion, ” said Flora; “we will notquarrel about it. I think it wiser, however, in order to avoidsingularity, to conform to existing fashions. ”

“Mrs. Lyndsay, I can prove to you in less than two minutes, that youtransgress daily your own rules. ” Flora looked incredulous. 

“You do not wear a _bustle_, which is now considered by all ladies anindispensable article of dress. ”

“You are right: it is a disgusting fashion, which destroys the grace andjust proportions of the female form. A monstrous piece of absurdity, that I have never adopted, and never will. ”[A]

 [A] During twenty years Flora kept her word. 

“Bravo! Bravo!” shouted Miss Wilhelmina, clapping her hands in anecstasy of delight. “I have conquered you with your own weapons. Thereis no slipping past the horns of that dilemma. You refuse to wear ahump on your back, and I decline the honour of the long petticoats. Letus hear how you can justify yourself?”

“You have gained an advantage by my own admission, ” said Flora; “but Ican’t consider myself beat. ”

“Fairly out of the field, my dear—fairly out of the field. Acknowledgethe defeat with a good grace. Let us shake hands, and drink a glass ofwine together in token of peace. ”

“I never keep wine in the house, ” said Flora, rather embarrassed, at therequest, particularly at such an early hour of the day. 

“Never keep wine in your house! Why, how do you contrive to keep up yourspirits, without a glass of wine now and then?”

“We are young, and require no artificial stimulants, to render uscheerful and happy. ”

“Well, I require stimulants, ” said Miss Wilhelmina, “with the violentexercise I take. I do not object to a glass of brandy-and-water, or evenof gin, when I feel exhausted. ”

“If you feel ill, Miss Carr, I will send out and get some. ”

“Ill! Lord bless you! I never was ill for an hour in my life. So, youcannot afford a little luxury like wine? My child, I pity you: I am sureyou require it. I wish you were better off. ”

“I shall never quarrel with Providence, from whom we have received somany blessings, on that account, ” said Flora; “I am very grateful forthe real comforts we enjoy. ”

“Poor comfort!” quoth Miss Wilhelmina. “My ideas of comfort are alwaysassociated with wealth. I maintain, that no one can really becomfortable without it. What should I be, without money? An antiquated, despised old maid—and with all my expensive habits, and queer notions, the very boys in the village would hold me in derision. For even boysknow the importance of money, and let me pass unmolested through themidst of them. ”

“I perceive that you are very popular with the young folks, ” said Flora. 

“All bribery and corruption, my dear. Boys are but men abridged andcramped down into skeleton jackets. When I come to a town, I throw ahandful of small silver coin into the middle of the first group of boysI find in my path. The next time they see me coming they cry outlustily, ‘Off with your hats, boys: here comes the rich lady!’ Off gothe tattered hats and caps, and my small coin pays for the compliment. ”

“Your plan is an expensive one, ” said Flora; “no wonder the boys regardyou with such favour. ”

“I never found money fail but in one instance, ” said Miss Wilhelminathoughtfully. “Mind, it is not to every one that I would communicate myexperience. People like to talk of themselves—to tell portions of theirhistory; it relieves their minds. There are very few to whom I have evertold mine; but I think it will amuse you. The follies of others arealways entertaining. 

“My father was Scotch—my mother Irish. The two nations don’t amalgamatevery well together. The children of such an union are apt to inherit thepeculiar national failings of both. My father united to a love ofscience a great deal of mechanical genius. He was a clever, prudent, enterprising man, and amassed a large fortune. My mother I neverknew—she died when I was an infant. My father hired a good-natured, easykind of woman, to be nurse. She was a widow, without children, whom heafterwards promoted to the head of his table. She was his third wife. Hehad one son by his first marriage, who had been born in Scotland, andadopted by a rich uncle. He afterwards got an appointment in India; andI never saw him above half-a-dozen times in my life—and only when achild. He was a handsome, proud man, very Scotch in all his words andways. We never took to one another. He thought me a spoilt, disagreeable, pert child; and I considered him a cross, stern man; andnever could be induced to call him brother. 

“I inherited a good property from my mother, which made me a veryindependent little lady, in my own conceit. I knew, that the moment Ibecame of age, I was my own mistress. Perhaps it was this consciousnessof power which made me the queer being I am. 

“My step-mother was very fond of me. She spoilt me shockingly—more thanmost mothers indulge their brats. She always seemed to retain a sense ofthe inferior position she had held. Not a common failing, by-the-by:persons raised unexpectedly to wealth, from the lower class, generallymeasure their presumption by their ignorance. She always treated me as asuperior. My father was very fond of her. These passive women are alwaysgreat favourites with men. They have no decided character of their own, and become the mere echoes of superior minds. A vain man loves to seehis own reflection in one of these domestic magnifying glasses: it is sogratifying to be the Alpha and Omega in his own house. His former wiveswere both handsome, conceited women, who thought so much of themselvesthat they could reflect no perfections but their own. In this respect Iresembled my mother—from a baby I thought fit to have a will andopinions of my own. 

“My step-mother always yielded to my masterly disposition when a child, generally ending the brief contest with the remark, ‘What a pity Williewas not a boy! What a fine spirited boy she would have made!’ When Igrew a tall girl, I became more independent still, and virtually wasmistress of the house. My father sent me to school. I learnt quicklyenough; but I was expelled from half a dozen for striking my teacherwhenever she dared to raise her hand to correct me. At length myeducation was finished, and I returned home for good, as wild and asfierce as an untamed colt. 

“My step-mother had a nephew—a lad whom my father had befriended verymuch. He had paid for his education, had bound him to an eminentsurgeon, and, when his term expired, had enabled him, from the samesource, to walk the hospitals and attend the necessary lectures. Henrywas attending the last course which was to fit him for entering upon hisprofession; and during that period he made our house his home. 

“He was not handsome, but a well-grown, high-spirited, clever youngfellow. Not at all a sentimental person, but abounding in frolic andfun, full of quaint, witty sayings, and the very incarnation ofmischief. We took amazingly to each other; and he enjoyed all my oddfreaks and fancies, and encouraged me in all my masculine propensities. 

“I grew very fond of him: he was the only creature of his sex I everloved;—but I did love him, and I thought that he loved me. I consideredmyself handsome and fascinating. All young people think so, if they areever so ordinary. It belongs to the vanity of the age, which believesall things—hopes for all things, and entertains no fears for theresult. 

“The girls at school had told me, that ‘I was a perfect fright;’ but Idid not believe them. They laughed at my snub nose and carrotty locks, and said ‘that it would take all my money to buy me a husband. ’

“Now, by way of digression, I’m a great talker, Mrs. Lyndsay, and loveto ramble from one subject to another. Do just tell me, why a _snub_nose should be reckoned vulgar, and red hair disgraceful?”

This was an awkward question. It was, however, put point blank. Floracould not avoid giving something in the shape of an answer. 

“It is impossible to account for these things, ” she said. “Any deviationfrom a recognised standard of taste and beauty is always open toobjections. But there are a great many modifications of these rules. Elegance of form, grace of manner, charms of expression, and evensweetness of voice, will render plain persons not only agreeable, buthighly so. ”

“You reconcile me to my snub nose and red hair, ” said the odd woman. “But few people possess a nice sense of discrimination; they are quickat finding out defects, slow at discovering graces. The world is full ofunjust partialities. My snub nose would have been considered a beauty inAfrica. My red hair would have been admired in Italy; but there is nostruggling against national prejudices; and these bull-headed Englishare the most prejudiced animals under the sun—and I was remorselesslybranded as a fright by a pack of sneering girls, half of whom had nosesas bad as my own. I had my private opinion on the subject, in which Iflattered myself my cousin (as I called Henry), would perfectly agree. 

“He never told me he loved me. I felt certain that he did, and that itwas gratitude to my father, for all that he had done for him, which kepthim silent. This was a foolishly romantic notion of mine. But there wasa touch of romance about me in those days. I was green—very green. I canlaugh at myself now. But it has always been rather a sore subject. 

“Henry did not speak himself. So I thought I would break the ice, andspeak for him. You look surprised. Well, I know it is not exactlyaccording to the general rules observed in such matters, which ties awoman’s tongue, and obliges her to wait with all humility, until she isasked by some man, whom perhaps she does not care a fig for, to be hiswife. I never lived within rules, and I thought I had as much right toplease myself, and ask a man to marry me, as a man had to ask me to behis wife. 

“I made Henry an offer of my hand, heart, and fortune—and—it is no usebeing ashamed at my time of life, of a thing which happened such a longtime ago—I was _refused_!—without any softening of the matter—downright, positively refused. 

“The ungrateful varlet did not even thank me for the honour. He brieflytold me, ‘That I was a very amusing girl, but the last woman on earth heshould wish to make his wife; that as to money, it was certainly a greatinducement, but not enough to compensate for the sacrifice of hisprinciples. He had a good profession, and hoped to earn by it wealth andindependence. ’

“Ah! how I hated him while he told me all this. How I have hated all hissex from that hour, for his sake!

“However, my dear, it had this good effect, —it cured me of all suchridiculous weakness then and for ever. I shook off the love fit, andWilhelmina was herself again. 

“My step-mother died shortly after this, and I became the mistress of myfather’s house. He was old and very infirm, and completely wrapped up inhis scientific studies. I only saw him occasionally, and then mynonsense amused him. He pined after my step-mother; and very shortlyfollowed her to the grave. I had just attained my majority when he died, and I came into a fine property, and found myself at my own disposal. 

“Nobody cared for me, and I cared for nobody. I wished to take a peep atthe world, and determined to travel over as much of its surface as Ipossibly could; and please myself as to the method I employed to effectmy object. 

“I have been in a great many foreign countries, and seen a great manystrange people; and been an actor in many extraordinary scenes; and Ihave come to the conclusion, that the world after all is not such aterrible bad world to live in, and that the very worst of itsinhabitants are not entirely without some good. ”

As she finished this sentence, the church clock proclaimed to the wholetown the hour of one. Miss Wilhelmina sprang from her chair, exclaiming, “Holloa! that’s my dinner-hour. It will take me ten minutes to get home, and the fish will be quite spoilt. Excuse me, Mrs. Lyndsay, and come andtake tea with me, like a good soul, to-morrow evening. I never take tealater than six. ”

Miss Wilhelmina vanished. Flora laughed over the interview until herhusband came home, and then they had a good laugh together. 

CHAPTER IX. 

FLORA GOES TO TEA WITH MISS CARR. 

The following evening, at the primitive hour of half-past five, Floratook her work, and went across the green to take tea with Miss Carr. 

She found that eccentric lady seated by the window, looking out for her, and Muff standing on her shoulder, catching flies off the panes ofglass. The evening was cold and raw, though the month was August, andthreatened rain. Such changes are common on the coast. The dreary aspectof things without was relieved by a small but very cheerful fire, whichwas burning away merrily in the grate. A large easy chair, covered withsnow-white dimity, was placed near it, expressly for Flora’saccommodation, into which she was duly inducted by Miss Carr, the momentshe had relieved herself of her bonnet and shawl. Everything looked socomfortable and cosy, in the neat lodging-house, and the tame mad womanreceived Mrs. Lyndsay with such hospitable warmth of manner, that theformer regretted that her husband was not allowed to share her visit. 

“You are late, ” said Wilhelmina, drawing a small sofa up to the fire, and placing it opposite to Flora’s easy chair, so that a prettywork-table stood conveniently between them; “I told you to come early, and I have been waiting for you this hour. ”

“I am sorry for that. I thought I had come unfashionably early. ”

“Fashion! What have you or I to do with anything so absurd as fashion?You are too poor to attend to the whims and caprices which sway the mindof the multitude, from which I presume emanate the fashions of theworld; and I am too independent to be swayed by any will but my own. Wewill therefore set the fashion for ourselves. This is liberty hall whileI am mistress of it. I do as I please; I give you full permission to dothe same. But what kept you so late?”

“A thousand little domestic duties, too numerous and too trifling todwell upon, ” said Flora, drawing her work from her bag; “since you giveme the privilege of doing as I please, I will resume my work, while Ilisten to your lively conversation. ”

“You will do no such thing, ” returned Wilhelmina, twitching a frillwhich Flora had commenced hemming, from her hand, “I will have nostitching and sewing here, but as much conversation as you please. ” Thenringing the bell, she handed over the frill to Mrs. Turner, “Give thatto your daughter, Mrs. T. , to hem for me, and tell her to do it in hervery best style. ”

“Why, la, ma’am, ’tis a very small affair, ” said Mrs. Turner, with ameaning smile. 

“A nightcap frill for Muff, ” said Miss Carr. “The cold weather iscoming. I mean Muff to wear caps in the winter. ”

“You are a droll lady, ” said Mrs. Turner retreating; “it’s a pity youhad not something better to make an idol of, than a dog. ”

While Miss Carr was speaking to Mrs. Turner, Flora glanced round theroom, and was not a little surprised to find a pianoforte making part ofthe furniture, an open drawing-box, of a very expensive kind, withcard-board and other drawing materials, occupied a side-table. Thesewere articles of refinement she had not expected from a man-like womanof Miss Carr’s character. 

“Are you fond of drawing?” she asked, when they were once more alone. 

“Passionately, my dear: I am a self-taught genius. Other people drew, and I was determined that I would draw too. What should hinder me? Ihave eyes to see, and hands to copy what pleases me; and the school fromwhich I derive instruction is the best in the world, and furnishes themost perfect models—that of Nature. I never bent my mind to anythingthat I wished to accomplish, and failed. But you shall judge foryourself. ”

Miss Wilhelmina sprang from her seat, and bouncing into a closet, soonreturned with a large portfolio, which she placed on the table beforeFlora. “There are my treasures; you can examine them at your leisure. ”

Flora did not expect anything delicate or beautiful, but she wasperfectly astonished, not at the skill and taste displayed in thesedrawings, but at the extraordinary want of it—nothing could be worse, orindeed so eccentrically bad. The first specimen of Miss Carr’s talentsas an artist which she drew from the splendid velvet-covered portfoliopuzzled her not a little. What the picture was meant for, Flora, for thelife of her, could not tell, until glancing down to the bottom of thesheet, she read with great difficulty the following explanation, writtenin a vile hand:—

“_Portrait of the Incomparable Muff, taken while picking her bone atbreakfast. _”

It was a good thing she had discovered a key to the hieroglyphic, forMiss Carr’s keen eyes were fixed intently upon her, as if they werereading her inmost soul. 

“Is it not beautiful?” she cried, anticipating Flora’s admiration. 

“Muff is a very pretty animal, ” said Flora evasively. 

“Muff pretty!” exclaimed Miss Carr indignantly, “who ever thought ofinsulting Muff by calling her _pretty_! She is exquisite—the perfectionof her species. I have, in that spirited picture, hit her off to thelife. Look at the action of that tail—the life-like grasp of thosepaws. You might almost fancy you heard her growl over the deliciousbroiled mutton-bone. ”

Flora thought the picture would have suited the _Ornithorhyncusparadoxus_ quite as well as the incomparable Muff. The drawing was toobad to praise; she could not flatter, and she abhorred quizzing. 

Miss Carr waited for her answer. Flora was dumb-foundered; fortunatelythe offended vanity of the artist soon relieved her from the painful andembarrassing silence. 

“I perceive that you are no judge of good paintings, Mrs. Lyndsay, oryou must see some merit in the one before you. I showed that sketch toan Italian artist of celebrity when I was at Rome; he said, ‘That it wasworthy of the original, ’ which I considered no mean praise. ”

“Doubtless, he was right, ” said Flora. “His judgment must be morecorrect than mine. Muff is so unlike the generality of dogs, that it isdifficult to recognise her as such. ”

“She’s a fairy!” cried Wilhelmina, forgetting her anger, and huggingMuff to her breast. 

“A Brownie, ” suggested Flora, delighted to find the conversation takinga turn. 

“Brownies belong to an inferior order of immortals, ” quoth Wilhelmina, still caressing her dog. “My Muff is among the aristocrats of herspecies. But you have not seen the rest of my sketches. You will find agreat many original pieces in the portfolio. ”

Flora wished them all behind the fire, and turning with a ruefulseriousness to the sacred repository of _genius_, she drew forth severaldaubs that were meant for landscapes, the contemplation of which wouldhave provoked the most indifferent person to mirth; but it was nolaughing matter to examine them while a being so odd as Miss Carr wasregarding you with a fixed gaze, hungry for applause and admiration. 

Flora thought she had discovered the maddest point in Miss Carr’scharacter. At length she stumbled upon a portrait. The figure was meantfor that of a boy, but the head was as big as the head of a man, andcovered with a forest of red curling hair, and he held in his hand abunch of blue flowers as big as himself. “What an odd looking creature!”burst involuntarily from her lips. 

“Ah, my beautiful Adolphe!” cried Wilhelmina. “He was odd like myself—hestood alone in the world in my estimation. I must tell you the historyof that child while you have his charming face before you. ”

Flora quietly slipped the portrait back into the portfolio. Herinclination to laugh became almost irrepressible. Miss Wilhelmina laidher right foot over her left knee, and, patting it almost ascomplacently as she would have done the silky brown back of her petdog, gave Mrs Lyndsay the following passage from her history:—

“That boy, with the education I meant to bestow upon him, would havebecome a great man—a second William Tell, or Andrew Hoffer—and I shouldhave been the foster-mother of a man of genius. But it was not tobe—there is a fate in these things. ”

“Did he die?” asked Flora. 

“Die! that would have been nothing out of the common way; everybody mustdie, some time or other. Oh, no, he may be living yet for what I know—itwas far worse than that. ”

Flora became interested. 

“First—I like to begin at the beginning—I must tell you how I came byAdolphe. I passed the summer of ’28 in a small village among the Alps. Every fine day I rambled among the mountains, —sometimes with a guide, sometimes alone. About half a mile from the village I daily encountered, upon the rocky road, a red-headed little boy of eight years of age, whonever failed to present me with a bunch of the blue flowers which growjust below the regions of ice and snow. He presented his offering insuch a pretty, simple manner, that I never accepted his flowers withoutgiving him a kiss and a few small coins. We soon became great friends, and he often accompanied me on my exploring expeditions. Whether it washis red head—God bless the mark! or a likeness I fancied I saw betweenhim and me, I cannot tell; but at last I grew so fond of the child thatI determined to adopt him as my own. His father was one of the mountainguides, and resided in a small cabin among the hills. I followed Adolpheto his romantic home, and disclosed my wishes to his parents. They werevery poor people, with a very large family, Adolphe being number twelveof the domestic group. 

“For a long time they resisted all my entreaties to induce them to partwith the child. The woman, like the mother of the Gracchi, thought fitto look upon her children as her jewels, —Adolphe, in particular, sheconsidered the gem in the maternal crown. Her opposition only increasedmy desire to gain possession of the boy; indeed, I was so set uponhaving him that, had she remained obstinate, I determined to carry himoff without asking her leave a second time. My gold, and the earnestrequest of the child himself, at last overcame her scruples; and afterbinding me by a solemn promise to let them see him at least once a-year, she gave him into my charge with many tears. 

“Having accomplished this business, greatly to my own satisfaction, Iset off with Adolphe, on a tour on foot through Germany. He was not onlya great comfort to me, but useful withal. He was sturdy and strong, areal son of the hills, and he carried my small valise, and enlivened thelength of the road with his agreeable prattle. 

“When we put up for the night, the people always took him for my son; afact I thought it useless to dispute in a foreign country. It would havehad a more significant meaning in England. A red-headed, single ladycould not have travelled alone, with a red-headed child, withoutdisagreeable insinuations. Abroad I always passed myself off as a widow, and Adolphe of course was my orphan son. 

“Matters went off very pleasantly, until we arrived at Vienna, and Ihired a neat lodging in a quiet part of the city, where I determined tospend the winter. The next morning I went out, accompanied by Adolphe, to examine the lions of the place. By accident we got entangled in acrowd, which had collected in one of the principal thoroughfares, towitness a fire. While striving to stem my way through the heaving massof human forms that hedged us in on every side, I suddenly missed mychild. To find him among such a multitude, was, indeed, to look for aneedle in a waggon of hay; yet I commenced the search in utterdesperation. 

“I ran hither and thither, wherever I could find an opening, franticallycalling upon Adolphe. I asked every person whom I met—‘If they had seenmy boy?’ Some pitied—some laughed; but the greater number bade me standout of their way. I was mad with fear and excitement, and returned to mylodgings late in the evening, starving with hunger, and worn out withfatigue of mind and body. I hoped that the child might have found hisway home, and was waiting me there. Alas! Adolphe had not been seen, andI went to bed too much vexed to eat my supper. 

“Early the next morning I resumed my search. I hired the public cryer toproclaim my loss; I borrowed a large bell from my landlady, and wentthrough all the streets crying him myself, hoping that he wouldrecognise my voice. Alas! alas! I never saw my child again!”

“Never?” said Flora. “Was he irrevocably lost?”

“Lost, lost, lost!” said Wilhelmina, shaking her head. “This comes ofadopting other people’s brats. Had he been a worthless, spoilt imp of myown, I should have been more successful. I stayed in Vienna all thewinter. I advertised him in the papers. I had placards, offering a largereward for his discovery, pasted on the walls of the principal streets;but I failed in recovering my poor Adolphe. To console myself for hisloss, I painted that portrait of him from memory. ’Tis an admirablelikeness. No one who had ever seen the original, could mistake it foranother. It was just a week after I lost my child, that the mistress ofthe house, in compassion for my distress, presented me with myincomparable Muff. Fortune owed me a good turn, for the ill-naturedtrick she had played me. It would not have been difficult for me to havefound another red-headed boy, as amiable as Adolphe; but such a prize asMuff is only to be met with once in a life. ”

“And the parents of the poor child, —how did they bear his loss?”

“To tell you the truth, my dear, I never knew. I never wish to know;for, without Adolphe, I never mean to venture into their neighbourhoodagain. ”

“Let us hope, ” said Flora, “that the child found his way back to hisnative mountains. ”

“Hurra!” cried Miss Wilhelmina, starting from her seat, and giving Florasuch a hearty embrace that she nearly choked her. “I never thought ofthat possibility before. Yes—yes; he had money in his little purse. Ihave no doubt that, on missing me, he returned by the road we hadtravelled to his native place. That demon won’t haunt my dreams again. But here comes the coffee, and Miss Turner’s delicious cakes andhome-made bread and butter. I hope you are fond of coffee, my dear? Idetest tea;—it is a sort of nervous, maudlin, sick-chamber trash, onlyfit for old maids and milk-and-water matrons. ”

“I prefer coffee, ” said Flora. “I have quite an Asiatic taste in thatrespect. ”

“Don’t talk of Asiatic coffee, ” said Wilhelmina: “wait till you havetasted it. The nauseous stuff! I have drank enough of it atConstantinople, but never could get it down without a grimace. I have itmade in the French style. ”

The coffee and cakes were served on a small silver tray, which wasplaced on the table between them. The coffee was fragrant andexhilarating; the bread and butter and cakes richly deserved the praiseMiss Wilhelmina had bestowed upon them. Flora had dined early, and didjustice to them. 

“I like to see a person enjoy their meals, ” said Miss Carr. “I hateaffectation in eating, as much as I hate affectation in speech. Somemince with their food as if they were ashamed of putting a morsel intotheir mouths before people. They ask for the least piece of this, andfor an imaginary crumb of that; and make their entertainersuncomfortable by their ridiculous fastidiousness; while, if we could seethese very delicate masticators in their own homes, perhaps we shouldfind them grumbling for Benjamin’s share of the daily meal. For my ownpart, I always eat in public as if no eye was upon me, and do it in ahearty, natural way. You may be sure, when you see persons, whether maleor female, give themselves great airs at table, that they have neverbeen used to good society at home. ”

Flora thought there was a great deal of truth in some of Wilhelmina’sremarks. But she felt that it would be dangerous to take the doings ofsuch an odd mortal for precedents in any case; and she was justified inher opinion by Miss Carr, the moment the table was cleared, calling forhot water, brandy, and wine. 

“Do you smoke?” she cried, producing a box of cigars from the closet, and a long Turkish pipe. Then, drawing down the window-curtains, shetucked her legs under her upon the sofa, and commenced filling, from abeautiful inlaid silver box, her hooker, with its finely-ornamented bowland amber mouthpiece. 

Flora looked her astonishment, as she said, —

“Miss Carr, do you _really_ smoke?”

“Do I know what is good?” said Wilhelmina. “Did you never see a womansmoke before?”

“Yes, Irish barrow-women in London; and I thought it odd, even forthem. ”

“They were wise women, my dear, and knew how to appreciate the merits ofthe weed. The Irish are a clever people—a very clever people. Youremember, that I am Irish by the mother’s side, and have retained one ofthe national tastes. But it was not in Ireland, nor in the streets ofLondon, sitting upon a fruit-woman’s barrow, that I learned thepleasures of smoking. It was in the East, with all its pretendedromance, and real humbug, that I acquired what you consider anunfeminine accomplishment. I saw fat, turbaned men sitting cross-leggedin every bazaar, dozing over their huge pipes, in a sort of dreamyhelplessness; and I determined to fathom the mystery of their enjoyment, and find out the grand secret. 

“The first few whiffs I took made me very sick and stupid. ‘Courage, ’said I, not in the least disheartened—

 “‘Pleasure cometh after pain, Sunshine cometh after rain— Wilhelmina, try again. ’

And I did try, for I was determined not to be beaten by theselong-bearded, long-petticoated men; and the next trial was crowned withcomplete success. 

“Now, Mrs. Lyndsay, is it not a shame that these selfish men should betamely allowed by us foolish women to monopolise all the good things oflife, and make that criminal in a female which they cannot denythemselves? You don’t know how much you lose, by being frightened bytheir blustering into passive obedience, and persuaded that what is goodfor a man is quite out of keeping with a woman. Do, just by way ofillustration to my argument, try one of those fragrant cigars. They areof the best quality—real Havana—’pon honour. ”

“You must excuse me, ” said Flora, laughing—as Miss Wilhelmina’s headdimly loomed through clouds of smoke—“I have no wish to acquire such ataste. ”

“You’re a little fool, ” puffed forth Wilhelmina. “But I hope to makesomething out of you yet. Take a glass of wine. ”

“I never drink anything but water, excepting at breakfast and tea. ”

“Water! Fiddle-faddle. A tumbler of hot punch will do you no harm. I amgoing to mix some in the most scientific manner. ”

“Only think what Lyndsay would say, ” cried Flora, “if he should come in, and find me smoking a cigar, and drinking brandy punch? He would neverforgive me—I could never forgive myself. ”

“All stuff and nonsense; I am certain he would neither refuse one ofthese cigars, nor a tumbler of this excellent punch. Does he neversmoke?”

“Oh, yes; a cigar, sometimes. ”

“And takes a glass of toddy—or he’s no Scot. ”

“Occasionally, with a friend. ”

“A male friend, _of course_. He takes snuff, for I have seen him do it;and this, between ourselves, is a far dirtier habit than smoking. I hatesnuff; it always reminds me of a lecture I once heard upon that subjectin America. The lecturer was a methodist; and he spoke very vehementlyagainst the use of tobacco in any shape; but snuff-taking seemed torouse him up, and inflame his indignation to a pitch of enthusiasm. ‘Ifthe Almighty, ’ he said, ‘had intended a man’s nose for a dust-hole, hewould have turned up the nostrils the other way. ’ These were his verywords; and to me they were so convincing, that I discarded from thatmoment all idea of becoming a snuff-taker. ”

Wilhelmina emptied her tumbler of brandy and water, which she as quicklyreplenished. These strong potations began to take effect—her eyes dancedin her head, and she became so strangely excited, that Flora wisheddevoutly that she was safe at home. Presently her odd companion laidaside her pipe, pushed from before her the now empty tumbler, and, rising abruptly, exclaimed—

“I’ve had enough. ”

Flora thought that she might have come to that conclusion half an hourbefore. 

“I’m not intoxicated, ” she said: “I only drink enough to raise myspirits, and drive away the blue devils. And now for a little music. ”

She sat down to the piano. 

“I play entirely from ear, Mrs. Lyndsay; I leave you to judge if I havenot an exquisite taste. Here is a march I composed this morning forCaptain Lyndsay’s black regiment—Hottentot of course. You say he playswell himself. He cannot fail to admire it. I will write it out for himto-morrow. ”

Of all Miss Carr’s strange whims, the idea she entertained of her beinga great musician, was the most absurd. She rattled over the keys at atremendous rate, striking them with such force that she made theinstrument shake. It was a mad revel—a hurricane of sound, yet, notwithout a certain degree of eccentric talent. In the midst of atremendous passage there came a knock at the door. 

“That’s my husband, ” said Flora, rising, glad to get away. 

It was only the maid. 

“You are no prophet, ” said Miss Carr, rattling on; “you must stay till Igive you _Napoleon’s Passage of the Alps_. I wrote it on the spot. It isa grand thing. I mean to publish it one of these days. ”

Flora said, “that she should be happy to hear it some other time. It waslate. She was anxious to get home. ”

“Be off with you then, ” said Wilhelmina, laughing, “and don’t tell meany white lies, or try and convince your good man, that I have beenendeavouring to corrupt your morals. ”

Lyndsay was amused, but not much pleased, with the account his wife gavehim of her visit to Miss Carr. 

“You must drop that woman’s acquaintance, if possible, ” said he. “Whether insane, or only eccentric, any particular intimacy with hermust be attended with unpleasant consequences. ”

Flora was willing enough to follow his advice; but to get rid of MissCarr was sooner said than done. Flora did not go to that lady’s house, but Wilhelmina chose to come to her; though she gave her neither pipesto smoke, nor brandy to drink, her odd guest never failed to step inonce or twice a week. 

“You are an ungrateful creature, Flora Lyndsay, ” said Wilhelmina, oneday to her—“very ungrateful. You know I am fond of you; but you are sucha mental coward, that you are ashamed of my acquaintance, because theworld finds fault with me, for not living in accordance with its lyingcustoms. You are afraid lest people should sneer at you for toleratingmy eccentricities, as they please to term a person leading a truelife—or say, that Mrs. Lyndsay smokes, and drinks, and swears, becauseMiss Carr does; and your sense of propriety is shocked at such an idea. I do drink and smoke; but like Poll, in the sailor’s song, ‘_I seldomswear. _’ It gives me no pleasure; and I never do anything gratuitouslybad. ”

Flora could not deny, that these were among the objections she had to anintimacy with Miss Carr; but she wisely held her tongue upon thesubject. 

“Ah, well, ” said Wilhelmina, after waiting a reasonable time for ananswer, and getting none. “Your silence is very conclusive evidence ofthe accusation I have brought against you. I give you credit for beinghonest, at least. You are no sneak, though I am rich, and you are poor. I verily believe, that you are prouder of your poverty, than I am of mywealth. I know many persons who hate me, and would yet fawn to me beforemy face, while they abused me like pickpockets behind my back. You arenot one of them, and I love you for that. ”

Flora had a kindness for Wilhelmina. She believed her to be mad, and notaccountable for her actions, and she tried to persuade her to give overher rambling propensities, and accept the protection of her brother’sroof. This advice greatly displeased Miss Carr. Flora might as well havestriven to confine a hurricane within the bounds of a cambricpocket-handkerchief, as to lay the least embargo upon that lady’sfreedom of speech or action. 

“Mind your own business! Mrs. Lyndsay, ” she said, angrily. “I suffer noone to interfere with me, or my matters. ”

For many months Wilhelmina never entered the house, though she walkedpast the window every day, to give Flora a hint that she was still inthe land of the living. 

In February Mrs. Lyndsay’s little girl was born; and for a very longtime she was too ill to stir abroad. Miss Carr sent Mrs. Turner everyday to inquire after her health; and testified her regard in a moresubstantial form, by sending her two dozen of old Madeira wine, whichshe said would strengthen and do her good. Flora was very grateful forthese little attentions, and felt ashamed of the repugnance she hadshown for Wilhelmina’s society. But they never met again, until MissCarr came to bid her farewell. 

“You are going to Canada, ” she said, shaking Flora heartily by the hand. “You are wise. In that wild country you will enjoy the gloriousprivilege of living as you please. I would go too, but I am afraid thecold winters would not agree with Muff, and her comfort has to beconsidered as well as my own. I spent a winter in New York; and I likedthe Americans first-rate. But as to pure democracy, my dear, that’s alla humbug. No well-educated, wealthy persons, ever consider themselvesupon an equality with their servants. But they are pleasant, kind, intelligent people to live with, if you have plenty of money, and dresswell. I know nothing of Canada; it was too insignificant to awakeneither interest or curiosity. I shall regard it with more complacencyfor your sake. ”

Flora took the opportunity of thanking Miss Carr for her kindness duringher illness. 

“What a serious matter you make of a trifle!” said Wilhelmina, laughing. “Don’t thank me. It was neither out of love nor charity I sent it, butjust to make you confess that wine was a good thing after all, and muchbetter to take than the doctor’s stuff. ”

“The doctor had recommended wine, but we could not afford it. I nevertold Lyndsay a word about it, for fear he should lay out the money wewanted so much for our voyage, in such an expensive remedy. I am certainthat it did me a great deal of good. ”

“Doubtless, ” said Wilhelmina. “I am glad to have rendered you a service, however trifling. You are a clear, prudent creature, but want spirit tolive as you please. I leave this hum-drum place to-morrow. Perhaps someof these days we may meet again; if not, you may live to learn that youslighted the friendship of one of the greatest geniuses that has arisenin this age. ”

Miss Carr left the town on foot, as suddenly as she had entered it. Whoor what she was remains a riddle to this day: we are almost inclined tobelieve that she was a _myth_. 

CHAPTER X. 

OLD JARVIS AND HIS DOG NEPTUNE. 

“Ma’am, old Jarvis is in the kitchen. He has brought some fish, andwants to see you, ” said Flora’s maid one morning, as her mistress hadjust finished washing and dressing the baby. 

“The poor old man! I thought he was dead, ” said Flora. “I have not seenhim for such a long time!” and, with baby in her arms, she followed thegirl into the kitchen. 

David Jarvis was a fisherman, well known upon that coast, —an active, energetic son of the sea, though somewhat time-worn and weather-beaten. The person of the old man had been familiar to Flora since she was alittle child; and many a stolen trip had she taken with her brothers inhis cockleshell of a boat, which, tough as its master, had stood thewear and tear of the winds and waves for many years. 

Since she came to reside at ——, she had often watched that little boatdancing over the waves, carried onward by a stiff breeze, —now hiding inthe green valleys of the sea, now mounting aloft, like a featherfloating on the ridge of some toppling surge. The old man seemed tobear a charmed life; for at all seasons, and in almost all weather, thelittle wiry seaman, with his short pipe in his mouth, and his nobleNewfoundland dog, Neptune, in the bow of his boat, might be seencoasting along the shore, following his adventurous calling. 

That large, deep-chested, powerful dog, was the admiration of all thechildren in the town. It was considered a privilege by the young fry topat Neptune’s buff head, and call him the “dear, good, old dog!” andwell did the fine animal deserve the title. 

The good dog had, at different times, saved nine seamen from a waterygrave, as the collar he wore round his neck recording the fact couldtestify. 

Next to his two fine sons, Nep was the delight of the old man’s heart. They were never seen apart. In storm or shine, Nep accompanied hismaster in the boat; or, if fishing on the beach, he sat up on hishaunches, with a calm, sagacious air, watching the accumulating pile offish entrusted to his care. Sociable, affable, and gentle, he submittedgood-humouredly to the caresses of all the youngsters who passed thatway; but if any one dared to lay a finger upon the fish, the lion-likenature of the animal was roused into instant action. His mild eye becamered and fiery, and his deep voice bade defiance to the incautiousintruder on his master’s rights, to protect which Nep was ready to laydown his valuable life. 

Jarvis and his dog enjoyed a great degree of popularity in an humbleway; and were decidedly among the lions of the place. Gentlemen hadoffered large sums for the buff Newfoundland dog, which Jarvis hadrejected without a second thought; declaring, that he would as soon sella child for money, as his faithful Nep. 

During the past year the old seaman had been severely tried. Misfortunehad followed upon misfortune; until the hardy veteran looked like thespectre of his former self. His only daughter, a pretty girl ofeighteen, was engaged to marry the ostler at the Crown Inn, afine-looking young man, who had lately come from London. He saw NancyJarvis, became enamoured of the fisherman’s daughter, told his tale oflove, and was accepted. The old man was rather averse to the match; for, in his eyes, no man was worthy of his Nancy, who was not a genuine sonof the sea. Robert Green at last succeeded in overcoming his nauticalprejudices; and a day was fixed for the wedding. Nancy’s rosy, artlessface was all smiles and sunshine, as night after night she saunteredpast Flora’s windows, leaning upon the arm of her betrothed. Only twodays previous to the one appointed for the wedding, the father learnedfrom old captain P——, whose vessel had just returned from London, thatRobert Green had a wife and two children in the great city; that thepoor young woman, hearing that his vessel was from the Port of ——, hadcome on board, to make some inquiries respecting her faithless husband;and that she and her little ones were now on their way to join him. 

This distressing intelligence was rashly communicated without anyprevious warning, to Nancy Jarvis. The unfortunate girl, seized with asudden frenzy, rushed to the pier and flung herself into the sea, whenthe tide was running out; and her distracted parents never succeeded inrecovering the body of the poor maniac. The worthless libertine, onwhose account this desperate act was committed, decamped in the night;and so escaped the vengeance of the old fisherman and his sons. 

Davy Jarvis, the old seaman’s youngest son, a fine lad of sixteen, wasdrowned in the month of July, only a few weeks after the tragical deathof his sister. Flora and Lyndsay had been eye-witnesses of this freshcalamity. Every fine afternoon the young Davy was in the habit of goingoff with another boy, of his own age, in his father’s boat. When theyhad rowed a couple of miles from the shore, they lay to, stripped, andwent into the water to swim, diving and sporting among the waves, liketwo sea-gulls taking their pastime in the summer ocean. 

Lyndsay had often watched them, and admired the dexterity with whichthe younger Jarvis would tumble himself from the water into the boat, which was left rocking upon the billows, and steady it for his comradeto get in. They would then resume their garments, and row to the beach. 

One afternoon they went off as usual. The day was bright and cloudless, with a stiff breeze. Lyndsay was reading aloud to Flora, as she sat atwork at the open window which commanded a view of the whole bay. 

“There’s Davy Jarvis and his comrade, putting off their boat, for aswim. They must mind what they are about, ” said Lyndsay; “the wind israther too blustering for their water frolic to-day. ”

He put down his book, and continued to watch the lads with someinterest. The boys reached their accustomed track among the waves; and, leaving their boat as usual, seemed to enjoy their sport with more zestthan ever. Whilst in the water, the breeze freshened, and it was withgreat difficulty, and not without hard swimming, that the lads regainedtheir boat, which driven before the wind, seemed determined to reach theshore without them. They succeeded at last, dressed themselves, andstood in for the land. A long line of heavy surf was beating violentlyagainst the beach, and by some mismanagement, the boat got capsizedamong the breakers. One lad was thrown on shore, but Davy Jarvis gotentangled in the surf, which beat continually over him, and renderedall the efforts of himself and his comrade fruitless; and the brave boywas drowned before the sailors who hurried to his assistance couldrescue him from his perilous situation. 

Flora had watched the scene with a degree of excitement so intense, thatit almost deprived her of breath. She could not believe that the ladcould perish within the reach of help, and so near the shore. Theshrieks of the mother, and the mute despair of the old fisherman, whohad been summoned to the spot, too clearly corroborated the report ofLyndsay, that the lad was indeed dead. 

After this fresh calamity old Jarvis appeared an altered man. His sinewyframe became bent and attenuated, his step fell feebler, his hair wasbleached to snowy whiteness, and his homely, tanned features assumed anexpression of stern and patient endurance. It was evident to Flora thathis heart was breaking for the loss of his children. 

Neptune seemed to understand it all—to comprehend in the fullest sensehis master’s loss and his present sufferings. He would walk slowly bythe fisherman’s side, and whenever he paused in his unsteady aimlessramble along the beach, Nep would thrust his nose into his hard brownhand, or, rearing on his hind legs, embrace him with his shaggyfore-paws, fawning and whining to attract his notice, and divert himfrom his melancholy. 

Day after day, during the long bright summer of 1831, Flora had watchedthe old man come to the spot on the beach where the dead body of his sonfirst touched the shore, and stand there for hours, looking out over thebroad sea, his eyes shaded from the rays of the sun by his bony redhand, as if he expected the return of the lost one. During these fits ofabstraction Nep would stretch himself along the beach at the fisherman’sfeet, his head sunk between his fore-paws, as motionless as the statueof a dog cut out of stone. The moment the old man dropped the raisedhand from his face, Nep would leap to his feet, look up wistfully intohis master’s eyes, and follow him home. 

This touching scene had drawn tears from Flora more than once, and sheloved the good dog for his devoted attachment to the grief-strickendesolate old man. When, however, the fishing season returned, Jarvisroused himself from the indulgence of hopeless grief. The littlecockle-shell of a boat was once more launched upon the blue sea, andJarvis might daily be seen spreading its tiny white sheet to the breeze, while the noble buff Newfoundland dog resumed his place in the bow. 

Jarvis came regularly every day to the house to offer fish for sale—cod, whitings, herrings, whatever fish chance had given to his net. Flora wasglad to observe something like cheerfulness once more illumine the oldsailor’s face. She always greeted him with kind words, and inquiredaffectionately after his welfare; and without alluding to his heavyfamily afflictions, made him sensible that she deeply sympathised in hisgrief. 

Things went on smoothly, until one terrible night in October, Jarvis andhis only remaining son, a strong powerful man of thirty, had been offwith several experienced seamen in the pilot-boat, to put a pilot onboard a large vessel which was toiling her way through the storm toLondon. Coming back, the wind rose to a gale, and the sailors, in tryingto enter the harbour, ran the boat against one of the piers with suchviolence, that it upset, and the whole party were thrown into the water. 

Old Jarvis was an admirable swimmer, and soon gained the beach, as didmost of the others, two of their number being rescued from death by theexertions of the brave dog. One alone was missing—Harry Jarvis was thelost man. 

From that hour Flora had never seen the old Jarvis or his dog. The boatlay high and dry upon the beach, and his net was still suspended betweenthe poles where it had been left to dry, and she concluded that Jarvishad not survived this last terrible blow. It was a joyful surprise, therefore, to hear, that he was not only alive, but pursuing his oldcalling. 

She found the fisherman leaning against the open kitchen-door, a basketof fish at his feet, and his clear grey eyes fixed vacantly upon thesilver waves, which flashing and murmuring in the sunlight, came racingto the beach below. The old sailors’ wrinkled face, once so ruddy andbronzed, was as white as his hair; his cheeks had fallen in, and deephollows had gathered about his temples; it was painful to observe thegreat alteration in his appearance since they last met. The old manstarted from his abstraction, as Flora’s foot sounded on the floor, andhe tried to smile. It was a vain attempt, his shrunken featuresinstantly contracted into their former melancholy expression. 

“My good old friend” said Flora, “I am glad to see you; I was afraid youhad been ill. What fish have you got for me?”

“Eels, Madam; I caught them in the river. They ar’n’t for sale, but justa little present. I he’erd you wor goin’ to cross the salt seas toCanady, an’ I had a mind to see you agin. ”

“I will accept them with pleasure, Davy, and I am very much obliged toyou for your kindness. I am very fond of eels, —we get them so seldom, they are quite a treat. I have not seen you out in the boat lately, Jarvis?”

“Maybe you’ll never see me out in her agin, ” said the fisherman. “I’mthinking my fishing days are ’most over; boat, tackle and measter areall worn out together. I’ve parted with the boat; how’somever. An’ as tothe sea, I allers look’d upon its broad face with pleasure, but t’hasbeen a cruel enemy to me and mine; my path, I’m thinking, will be overit no more. ”

Flora saw the tear glistening in the old man’s eye, and she tried todivert his attention by asking him what he had done with his dog—“withdear, old ‘Nep?’”

“I shot him. ” The seaman’s thin lips quivered, and his whole frametrembled. “Ay, I shot my good dog—my brave, faithful dog, —the best, thetruest friend man ever had; an’ I’ve niver know’d a happy hour since. ”

The bright drops were now raining down the old man’s cheeks. 

Flora reached him a chair, and begged him to sit down. The fishermanmechanically obeyed, with his chin sunk between his hands, and hiselbows resting on his knees. For some minutes both were silent, untilthe old man said, in a thick, husky voice—

“Yes, I shot ‘Nep’—shot him with my own hand. It wor cruel and wicked ofme to do the like, but I wor mad—stark staring mad, and who’s to blame?You see, my lady, he wor with us that terrible Saturday night, when wewent off to put the pilot on board the brig _Sally_, from Shields. Comin’ back it wor pitch dark, an’ the sea runnin’ mountains high, SamMasters ran the boat plump upon the pier, an’ we wor upset on the bar. Nep saved Sam Masters and Ben Hardy, but he let my Harry drown. I neverrebelled agin’ the providence of God till then; but I trust He’llforgive what the old man said in his mortal distress. Instead ofthanking Him, when I sor that so many wor safe, an’ encouragin’ Nep forhaving saved two on ’em, I cursed the dog for an ungrateful brute forsaving strangers, an’ letting my Harry be lost. I dashed him offwhenever he’d come whining around, to lick my hands an’ make friends, an’ when I got home I took down the old gun—poor Harry’s gun—and calledNep out upon the cliff an’ shot him dead. 

“I repented the moment I sor him drop. It wor too late then. I thoughtthat both Davy and Harry would have blamed me for taking the poorbrute’s life—for they wor mortal fond of ’un. The next morning I wor upby daybreak, and down to the piers in the little boat to see if I mightchance to light upon the dead body. 

“The storm was over, an’ in rowing ’atwixt the piers, I sor summut thatlooked like the thing I sought, hanging, as it wor, to the planking ofthe pier. I steered for the place, an’, God o’ heaven! it wor the bodyof my son! He wor just two feet below the water, hanging with his headdownwards. The force of the waves had driven him upon an ironstauncheon, which extended some distance from the pier, the woodwork towhich it belonged had been wrenched away in the storm. It had passedright through Harry’s body, and held him fast. And the dog—the poordog—had tried to get him off; he had dragged at his jacket andshirt-collar, till they wor all shred to bits, and had only given overwhen he found it of no use, an’ then did what he could to save the rest!An’ I killed him—I, that should have fed and cherished him to his dyingday—I can never forgive myself for that. ”

“Do not distress yourself, Jarvis, in this way. No one will blame youfor what you did in such a distracted state of mind, ” said Flora, thoughshe was grieved to the heart for the death of the noble dog. 

“You are right—you are just right; I was mad; and you must not thinkhard of a poor broken-hearted old man. My sorrow is ’most greater than Ican bear. It will not be for long; I feel I’m goin’ the way of all theearth, an’ it matters little when we cast anchor in that port, whetherour voyage wor short or long—rough or smooth, when the righteous Judgeoverhauls our vessel, an’ lays bare the secrets of all hearts. I trustHe’ll have mercy on old Davy Jarvis, and forgive him for the death ofhis brave dog. ”

The fisherman took the eels from his basket, and grasping Flora’s handin his hard horny palm, said, “May the Lord grant you prosperity! an’bless you an’ your husband an’ the little ’un, an’ bring you safe to thefar land to which you are journeying! May it prove to you a haven ofrest! God bless you! good bye!”

Flora looked after the drooping figure of the fisherman as he slowlydescended the cliff, and she thought how intense must have been hisagony in that dark hour of utter bereavement, which had tempted him tosacrifice his dog on the mere supposition that he had neglected to savethe life of his son. 

“God comfort you! poor Jarvis, ” she said, “and guide you in peacethrough the shadows of the dark valley that stretches its long nightbefore you. The grief which has brought your grey locks in sorrow to thegrave was enough to have broken a sterner heart. ”

CHAPTER XI. 

FLORA IN SEARCH OF A SERVANT HEARS A REAL GHOST STORY. 

Lyndsay had charged Flora, during his absence, to inquire for a femaleservant, to accompany them to Canada, and take care of the baby duringthe voyage. Flora was very reluctant to obey this command, though sheknew that it was entirely on her account that the request was made. Herhealth was still very bad, and her kind husband was anxious to spare herany additional fatigue and trouble. She much doubted, however, whetheranother added to their party would not rather increase than diminish heranxiety, and she begged hard to be allowed to do without. To thisproposition Lyndsay would not listen for a moment. 

“The thing is impossible, Flora, ” said he, very impetuously, “you cannotdo without; you are not able to nurse the child. I must insist upon yourhiring a woman immediately. ”

Flora sighed. “There will be plenty of women in the steerage of anyemigrant vessel, who for the sake of a few dollars would gladly renderme all the assistance I require. ”

“You must not trust to such contingencies. ”

“But, husband dear, consider the great additional expense, ” she said, coaxingly. 

“Nonsense!—that is my affair. ”

“I should like to have my own way in this matter, ” said Flora, leaningher hand upon his shoulder, and trying to win him into compliance bysundry little caresses. “I know, John, that I am in the right. ”

“And those who love you, Flora, and wish to spare you fatigue anddiscomfort, are in the wrong. Is it not so?”

This last speech silenced his wife, but did not convince her that shewas wrong. Flora, as my readers must long ago have discovered, was noheroine of romance, but a veritable human creature, subject to all thefaults and weaknesses incidental to her sex. She wished to have her ownway, and was ready to cry that she could not get it. Yet, had her advicebeen acted upon, she would have been spared a great deal of sorrow andmortification, which greatly embittered the first months of her sojournin a foreign land. 

Persons emigrating to Canada cannot be guilty of a greater blunder thanthat of taking out servants with them, which is sure to end in loss anddisappointment; for they no sooner set foot upon the North Americanshores, than they suddenly become possessed with an _ultra republican_spirit. The chrysalis has burst its dingy shell; they are no longercaterpillars, but gay butterflies, prepared to bask in the sun-blaze ofpopular rights. Ask such a domestic to blacken your shoes, clean aknife, or fetch a pail of water from the well at the door, and ten toone she will turn upon you as fierce as a lioness, and bid you do ityourself. If you are so imprudent as to insist on being obeyed, she willtell you to hire another in her place; she is sure of twenty situationsas good as yours, to-morrow. 

She is right in her assertion. Her insolent rejection of your commandswould not stand at all in her way of procuring a new place. And althoughcleaning a lady’s shoes, and bringing in a pail of water, or an armfulof wood, is by no means such disgusting employment as scouring greasypots and scrubbing the floors, she has been told that the former isdegrading work not fit for a woman, and she is now in a free country, and will not submit to degradation. 

The mistress, who in England was termed the _dear lady_, now degeneratesinto the _woman_, while persons in their own class, and even beggarsseeking for alms are addressed as Ma’am and Sir. How particular they arein enforcing these titles from one another; how persevering in deprivingtheir employers of any term of respect! One would imagine that they notonly considered themselves on an equality, but that ignorance andvulgarity made them vastly superior. It is highly amusing to watch froma distance these self-made ladies and gentlemen sporting their borrowedplumes. 

Some years after she had been settled in Canada, Flora picked up a notewhich had been thrown out as waste paper, and which was addressed to thefather of a very dirty, dishonest girl, whom she had dismissed from herservice for sundry petty frauds, a few weeks before. It was addressed toEdward Brady, Esqre. , and ran as follows:—

 “Honoured Sir, “The company of _self_ and _lady_, is respectfully solicited at a _contribution_ ball, to be given next Thursday evening, at the Three King’s Inn. Dancing to commence at eight o’clock precisely. 

 Stewards {Patrick Malone, Esq. {John Carroll, Esq. ”

All the parties herein named were persons of the very lowest class; andthe titles thus pompously bestowed upon themselves, rendered the wholeaffair exquisitely ridiculous. At a _contribution_ ball, each personbrings a share of the entertainment. Flora’s maid had stolen a largequantity of sugar for her part of the feast, and was discovered in theact. 

In compliance with Lyndsay’s request, Flora now set diligently to workto inquire for a girl willing to emigrate with them to Canada, in thecapacity of nurse to her baby. She had scarcely made her wishes public, before the cottage was beset with matrons, widows and maids, both oldand young, all anxious to take a trip across the water, and try theirfortunes in Canada. 

The first person who presented herself as a candidate for emigration, was a coarse, fat, she-clown, with huge red fists and cheeks, “as broadand as red as a pulpit cushion. ” On being shown into Flora’s littleparlour, she stood staring at her with her arms stuck in her sides, andher wide mouth distended from ear to ear, with a grin so truly uncouthand comic, that Mrs. Lyndsay could scarcely restrain her laughter; witha downward jerk of her broad shapeless person, meant for a curtsy, sheburst out in a rude vulgar voice, “He’eard, Marm, yah wanted a gurl to go with yah to Cannadah. ”

“I do. Who sent you up to me?”

“Whao sent oie up? Oie sent up moisel. ”

“What is your name?”

“Moi neame? Is’t moi neame yah wants to knowah? Wall, moi neame is SareAnn Pack; feather warks at Measter Turners. ”

“Have you ever worked out, or been used to take care of children?”

“Why yees, oie ’spect oie ha’. Moother has ten on ’em. Oie be the oldeston’em. Oi’ve had nursing enoof, an’ wants to get quit on it. ”

“I am afraid, Sarah, you will not suit me. ”

“How dew yah noa, Marm, till yah tries?”

“You are very slatternly, and I wanted a clean, tidy, active girl tonurse my baby. ”

“Sure moi cloes is clane enoof, and good enoof, for to live amongst thesadvidges?”

“You’ll be put to no such trial, ” said Flora laughing, in spite ofherself, “without you reckon me and my husband sadvadges. Can you washand iron?”

“Noa. But ’spose oie cud larn. ”

“What work can you do?”

“‘Spect anything yah sets oie to. Oie can make doomplings, milk cows, and keep the pot a bilin’. ”

“And what wages do you expect for such services?”

“Is it to goor to Cannadah? Oh, oie ’spects tree punds o’ month for theloike o’ that. ”

“You must stay at home then, my good girl, and boil the dumplings, ” saidFlora. “Indeed, I cannot imagine what induced you to come up here tooffer me your services. You literally can do nothing, for which youexpect exorbitant wages. Why do you wish to leave your friends, to goout with strangers to Canada?”

“That’s moi consarn, ” said the girl, with one of her gigantic expansionsof mouth. “Oie he’eard ’twas a mortal good place for maids gettingmarried. Husbands are scearce here, so oise thought, oise might as welltry moi chance as the rest o’un. Won’t yah take oie?” Flora shook herhead. 

The girl twirled the strings of her checked apron, “Mayhap, yah won’tget anoder so willin’ to go, as I’se be. ”

“Perhaps not. But I want a person of some experience—one who has beenused to service, and could bring a good character from her lastemployer. ”

“Karaktah! Karaktah!” said the girl contemptuously. “What need of akaraktah in such a place as Cannadah? Folk a’ go there need na karaktah, or they might jeest as well bide to whome. ”

This last declaration settled the matter, and Flora, not without somedifficulty, got rid of the promising candidate for matrimony andemigration. Her place was instantly supplied by a tall, hard-featured, middle-aged woman, who had been impatiently waiting for Miss Pack’sdismissal, in the kitchen, and who now rushed upon the scene, followedby three rude children, from six to ten years of age, a girl, and twoimpudent-looking boys, who ranged themselves in front of Mrs. Lyndsay, with open mouths, and eyes distended with eager curiosity, in order toattract her observation, and indulge themselves in a downright stare. 

“Well, my good woman, and what is your business with me?” said Flora, not at all prepossessed by any of the group. 

“Are you the mistress?” asked the woman, dropping a curtsy. 

Flora answered in the affirmative. 

“My business is to go to Canady; but I have not the means. I am a poorwidow; my husband died of the fever three years ago, and left me withthese children to drag along the best way I could. We have had hardtimes, I can tell you, Ma’am, and I should be main glad to better mycondition, which I think I might do, if I could get out to Canady. Iheard that you wanted a nurse for your baby during the voyage, and Ishould be glad to engage with you, if we can agree as to the terms. ”

“What are your terms?”

“For you, Ma’am, to pay the passage of me and the three children over, and I to attend upon you and the child. ”

“But, my good woman, I have only one little child for you to take chargeof, and you cannot expect me, for the trifling services that you couldrender, to pay your passage over, and that of your family?”

“Sure, you might be glad of the chance, ” said the sturdy dame. “It isnot everybody that would take service with you to go there. I should nottrouble you longer than the voyage. I have friends of my own atMontreal, who have written for me to come out to them; and so I wouldlong ago, if I had had the means. ”

“If they want you, they may pay your passage, ” said Flora, disgustedwith the selfishness of her new acquaintance. “It would be less troubleto me to nurse my own child, than incur the responsibility of three thatdid not belong to me. ”

The woman collected her young barbarians from the different quarters ofthe room, where they were reconnoitring the attractions of the place, and withdrew with a scowl; and Flora’s nurse, Mrs. Clarke, shortly afterentered the room, with little Josephine in her arms. 

“Well, nurse, ” said Flora, giving way to a hearty laugh, “did you seethose queer people, who want me to take them out as a venture toCanada?”

“A losing speculation that would be, if we may judge by looks andmanners, ” said the old lady; “but, indeed, Mrs. Lyndsay, it will be noeasy matter to find just what you want. It is not every one to whom Iwould trust the dear baby. ”

Then sitting down in the nursing chair, and hushing Josey on her knee, she continued, “I have been thinking of you and the child a great dealsince I heard you were bent on going to Canada; and if you think that Icould be of any service to you, I would go with you, myself. I ask nowages—nothing of you, beyond a home for my old age. ”

Mrs. Clarke was a kind, amiable, good woman, but very feeble, nervous, and sickly, and very little qualified for the arduous and fatiguing lifeshe had chosen. 

“My dear nurse, ” said Flora, clasping her hand in her own, “I shouldonly be too happy to have you. But you are old, and in delicate health;the climate would kill you; I much doubt whether you could stand thevoyage. I cannot be so selfish as to take you from your home and friendsat your time of life. But take off your hat and shawl, and we will talkthe matter over. ”

The old woman laid the now sleeping babe in the cradle, and resumed herseat with a sigh. 

“It is this want of a home which makes me anxious to go with you. It ishard to be dependent upon the caprice of brothers, in one’s old age. Thirty years ago and life wore for me a very different aspect. ”

“Nurse, ” said Flora, who was very fond of the good old body, who hadattended her with the greatest care and tenderness, through a long anddangerous illness; “how comes it that such a pretty woman as you musthave been did not marry in your youth? I can scarcely imagine thatnature ever meant you for an old maid. ”

“Nature never made any woman to be an old maid, ” said Nurse; “God doesnothing in vain. Women were sent into the world to be wives and mothers;and there are very few who don’t entertain the hope of being so at someperiod of their lives. I should not be the forlorn, desolate creature Iam to-day, if I had had a snug home, and a good husband to make thefireside cheery, and children together about my knees, and make me feelyoung again, while listening to their simple prattle. 

“I thought to have been a happy wife once, ” continued Nurse, sadly; “aheavy calamity that broke another heart besides mine, laid all my hopesin the dust, and banished from my mind the idea of marriage for ever. Did I never tell you the story, Ma’am? A few words will often containthe history of events that embittered a whole life. Whilst I am hemmingthis little pinafore for Miss Josey, I will tell you the tale of myearly grief. 

“My father was a native of this town, and captain of a small vesselemployed in the coal-trade, which plied constantly between this port andNewcastle and Shields. He owned most of the shares in her, was reckonedan excellent sailor, and was so fortunate as to have escaped the usualdangers attendant upon the coast trade, never having been wrecked in hislife, —which circumstance had won for him the nickname of ‘Lucky Billy, ’by which he was generally known in all the seaport towns along thecoast. 

“I was the eldest of a large family, and the only girl. My mother diedwhen I was fourteen years of age, and all the cares of the householdearly devolved upon me; my father was very fond of me, and so proud ofmy good looks, that his ship was christened the _Pretty Betsy_, inhonour of me. 

“Father not only earned a comfortable living, but saved enough to buildthose two neat stone cottages on the East-cliff. We lived in the onewhich my brother now occupies; the other, which is divided from it by anarrow alley, into which the back doors of both open, was rented formany years by the widow of a revenue officer and her two sons. 

“Mrs. Arthur’s husband had been killed in a fray with the smugglers, andshe enjoyed a small Government pension, which enabled her to bring upher boys decently, and maintain a respectable appearance. My fathertried his best to induce Mrs. Arthur to be his second wife, but shesteadily refused his offer, though the family continued to live on termsof the strictest friendship. 

“Mrs. Arthur’s sons, John and David, were the handsomest and cleverestlads of their class, between this and the port of Y——. They bothfollowed the sea, and after serving their apprenticeships with myfather, John got the command of the _Nancy_, a new vessel that wasemployed in the merchant trade, and made short voyages between this andLondon. David, who was two years younger, sailed with his brother asmate of the _Nancy_. 

“David and I had been sweethearts from our school-days, —from a child infrocks and trowsers, he had always called me ‘his dear little wife. ’Time only strengthened our attachment to each other, and my father andhis mother were well-pleased with the match. It was settled by allparties, that we were to be married directly David could get captain ofa ship. 

“Mrs. Arthur was very proud of her sons; but David, who was by far thehandsomest of the two, was her especial favourite. I never saw the youngsailor leave the house without kissing his mother, or return from avoyage without bringing her a present. I used to tell him, ‘There wasonly one person he loved better than me, and that was his mother;’ andhe would laugh, and say, —‘Not better, Betsy, —but ’tis a different lovealtogether. ’

“I must confess I was rather jealous of his mother. I did not wish himto love her less, but to love me more. Whenever he left us for sea, heused to tell me the very last thing—‘Show your love to me, dear Betsy, by being kind to my dear old mother. When you are my wife, I will repayit with interest. ’

“During his absence, I always went every day to see Mrs. Arthur, and torender her any little service in my power. She was very fond of me, always calling me ‘her little daughter, —her own dear Betsy. ’ Herconversation was always about her sons, and David in particular, whichrendered these visits very agreeable to me, who loved David better thananything else under heaven. He was never out of my thoughts, Iworshipped him so completely. 

“It was the latter end of February that the Arthurs made their lastvoyage together. David was to sail as captain, in a fine merchant-ship, the first of May; and everything had been arranged for our marriage, which was to take place the tenth of April; and I was to make a bridaltour to London with my husband in the new ship. I was wild withanticipation and delight, and would let my work drop from my handstwenty times a-day, while building castles for the future. No othergirl’s husband would be able to rival my husband; no home could be ashappy as my home; no bride so well beloved as me. 

“It was the twentieth of March, 18—; I recollect it as well as if itwere only yesterday. The day was bright, clear, and cold, with highwinds and a very stormy sea. The _Nancy_ had been expected to make herport all that week, and Mrs. Arthur was very uneasy at her delay. Shewas never happy or contented when her sons were at sea, but in aconstant fidget of anxiety and fear. She did not like both sailing inthe same vessel. ‘It is too much, ’ she would say—‘the safety of twolives out of one family—to be trusted to one keel. ’ This morning she wasmore fretful and nervous than usual. 

“‘What can these foolish boys be thinking of, Betsy, to delay theirvoyage in this way? They will in all probability be caught in theequinoctial gales. David promised me faithfully to be back before theeighteenth. Dear me! how the wind blows! The very sound of it is enoughto chill one’s heart. What a stormy sea! I hope they will not sail tillthe day after to-morrow. ’

“Now, I felt a certain conviction in my own mind that they had sailed, and were at that moment on the sea; but, I must confess, I apprehendedno danger. It might be that her fears hindered me from indulging fearsof my own. 

“‘Don’t alarm yourself needlessly, dear Mother, ’ said I, kissing hercold, pale cheek. ‘The _Nancy_ is a new ship, —the lads brave, experienced sailors. There is not the least cause for uneasiness. Theyhave weathered far worse gales before now. They have, father says, thewind and tide in their favour. It is moonlight now o’ nights; and I hopewe shall see them merry and well before morning. ’

“‘God grant you may be right, Betsy! A mother’s heart is a hot-bed ofanxiety. Mine feels as heavy as lead. My dreams, too, were none of thebrightest. I thought I was tossing in an open boat, in just such astormy sea all night; and was constantly calling on David to save mefrom drowning; and I awoke shrieking, and struggling with the greatbillows that were dragging me down. ’

“‘Who cares for dreams?’ I said. Hers, I would have it, was one of goodomen; for though she fought with the storm all night, she was notdrowned. So it would be with the lads: they might encounter a gale, andget a severe buffeting, but would arrive safe at last. 

“‘I wish it may be so, ’ she said, with a sigh. ‘But I felt just the samesinking at the heart the night my husband was killed, when thereappeared no cause for uneasiness. ’

“I remained all day with the old lady, trying to raise her spirits. Shepaid very little attention to all my lively chat; but would stand forhours at her back-window, that commanded a view of the bay, gazing atthe sea. The huge breakers came rolling and toiling to the shore, filling the air with their hoarse din. A vessel hove in sight, runningunder close-reefed topsails, and made signals for a pilot. 

“‘Ah!’ I exclaimed joyfully; ‘that is Captain Penny’s old ship, _Molly_. If she has rode out the gale, you may dismiss your fears about the_Nancy_. They have launched the pilot-boat. See how she dances like afeather on the waves! Why, Mother dear, ’ I cried, turning to Mrs. Arthur, who was watching the boat, with the large tears trickling downher cheeks, ‘is it not weak, almost wicked of you, to doubt God’sprovidence in this way?’

“‘Ah! how I wish it were their vessel, ’ she sobbed. 

“‘Captain Penny’s wife and children would not thank you for that wish, ’said I. ‘How glad I am that the good old man is safe!’

“The day wore away. A long day for us both. The gale did not increase, and Mrs. Arthur at last began to listen to reason. The moon rose highand bright; and after seeing the old lady to her bed, I went home togive my father and the boys their supper. 

“I found father very cross for having waited so long. ‘What the devil, Betsy!’ cried he, ‘kept you so late? The lads and I have been starvingfor the last hour. When girls get sweethearts they can think of nothingelse. ’

“‘Mrs. Arthur felt anxious about her sons, and I stayed with her. ’

“‘What’s the old fool afraid of? This cupful of wind, Penny’s old_Molly_ rode it out bravely. He told me he left the Arthurs in theriver. He thought they would be in by daybreak. Come, be quick, girl. AsI am to lose you so soon, I would make the most of you while you belongto me. ’

“His cheerful, hearty manner helped to raise my spirits, which had beendepressed by Mrs. Arthur’s fretful anticipations of evil. I bustledhither and thither, laughed and sung, and cooked father’s mess of freshfish so much to his satisfaction, that he declared I should make a jewelof a wife, and that he had not made up his mind whether he would partwith such a good cook. Without he married again, he was afraid he wouldnot get such another. 

“‘You must be quick then, ’ said I, ’or you will not have me for yourbridesmaid. I give you just three weeks for the courtship, for I shan’tremain single one day longer to cook the wedding dinner for you. ’

“‘You are saucy, ’ said he, filling his pipe. ‘Davy will have to take thehelm himself, if he would keep you on the right tack. Clear the decksnow, and be off to your bed. If the gale lulls, I shall sail early inthe morning. ’

“I removed the supper-things, and before I lighted my candle, lingeredfor a few minutes at the back window, to take a last view of the sea. Itwas a stormy but very beautiful night. The heavens were without a cloud. The full moon cast broken gleams of silver upon the restless, tossingwaters, which scattered them into a thousand fragments of dazzlingbrightness, as the heavy surf rolled in thunder against the beach. 

“‘Has the gale freshened, father?’ said I, anxiously. 

“‘Not a bit of it. Say your prayers, Betsy, and trust in Providence. Your lover is as safe in his good ship to-night, as in his bed at home. ’

“He pulled me on to his knee, and kissed me, and I went up to bed with alighter heart. 

“A few minutes later I was fast asleep. I don’t know how long this sleeplasted, but I awoke with hearing David Arthur calling beneath my window. His mother’s window and mine both fronted the cliff, and were in a linewith each other. ‘Thank God! David is safe!’ I cried, as I sprangjoyfully from my bed, and threw open the casement. 

“There he was sure enough, standing in the moonlight, directly beneaththe window. His norwester flung far back on his head, his yellow curlshanging in wet masses on his shoulders, and his clothes dripping withthe salt spray. The moon shone forth on his upturned face. He lookedvery pale and cold, and his eyes were fixed intently upon his mother’schamber-window. Before I could speak, he cried out in his rich, manlytones—

“‘Mother, dearest mother, I am come home to you. Open the door, and letme in!’

“‘Stay, Davy, darling—stay one moment, and I will let you in. Yourmother’s asleep; but I can open the back-door with my key. Oh! I’m sohappy, so thankful, that you are safe. ’

“I threw my clothes on as fast as I could, but my hands trembled so fromexcitement, that I could scarcely fasten a string. A cold chill wascreeping through my whole frame, and, in spite of the joy I felt, Iinvoluntarily burst into tears. Dashing away the unwelcome drops withthe back of my hand, I bounded down the stairs, unlocked the back-doorthat led into the alley, and in another moment stood alone on the cliff. 

“‘David, where are you?’ I cried. But no David was there. I glanced allround the wide, open space: not an object was moving over its surface. Adeep stillness reigned all around, only interrupted by the solemnthunder of the waters, whose hollow surging against the shore renderedthe solitude of the midnight hour more profound. 

“Again I felt those cold chills steal through me—again the unbiddentears streamed down my cheeks. 

“‘What can have become of him?’ said I, quite bewildered with surpriseand fear; ‘he must have got in at the back window!—I will go to hismother—I shall find him with her!’

“The key I held in my hand fitted both locks: I went into Mrs. Arthur’s, lighted the candle that I had left on her kitchen dresser, and went upto her chamber. She started up in the bed as I opened the door. 

“‘Good God! Betsy, ’ she cried, ’is that you? I thought I heard Davidcall me. ’

“‘And so he did, ’ I said; ‘he came under the window just now, and calledto you to let him in. I told him to wait till I could dress myself, andI would come down and open the door. Is he not here?’

“‘No, ’ said his mother, her face turning as white as her cap; ‘you musthave been dreaming. ’

“‘Dreaming!’ said I, rather indignantly; ‘you need not try to persuademe out of my senses—I saw him with my own eyes!—heard him with my ownears! and spoke to him! What else will convince you? He has gone back tothe ship for John—I will breeze up the fire, put on the kettle, and getsomething cooked for their supper. After buffeting about in this storm, they will be cold and hungry. ’

“Mrs. Arthur soon joined me. She could not believe that I had spoken toDavid, though she fancied that she had heard him herself, and was in afever of anxiety, pacing to and fro the kitchen floor, and opening thedoor every minute to look out. I felt almost provoked by her want offaith. 

“‘If the ship were in, ’ she muttered, ‘he would have been in long ago, to tell me that all was safe. He knows how uneasy I always am when heand his brother are away. Betsy must have been deceived!’

“‘Mother, dear—indeed, what I tell you is true!’

“And I repeated to her for the twentieth time, perhaps, what David hadsaid, and described his appearance. 

“Hour after hour passed away, but no well-known footstep, or dearlyloved voice, disturbed our lonely vigil. The kettle simmered drowsily onthe hob; Mrs. Arthur, tired out with impatient fretting at her son’sdelay, had thrown her apron over her head, and was sobbing bitterly. Ibegan to feel alarmed; a strange fear seemed growing upon my heart, which almost led me to doubt the evidence of my senses—to fancy, infact, that what I had seen might have been a dream. But, was I notthere, wide awake? Had not his mother heard him speak as well as me?though her half-waking state had rendered the matter less distinct thanit had been to me? I was not going to be reasoned out of my sanity inthat way, because he did not choose to wait until I came down to openthe door—which I thought rather unkind, when he must be well aware, thatmy anxiety for his safety must quite equal that of his mother. 

“The red beams of the rising sun were tinging the white foam of thebillows with a flush of crimson. The gale had lulled; and I knew that myfather’s vessel sailed with the tide. I started from my seat, Mrs. Arthur languidly raised her head—

“‘My dear Betsy, will you just run across the cliff to the look-outhouse, and ask the sailors there if the _Nancy_ came in last night? Icannot bear this suspense much longer. ’

“‘I might have thought of that before, ’ I said; and, without waitingfor hat or shawl, I ran with breathless speed to the nearest station. 

“I found one old sailor kneeling upon the bench, looking intentlythrough his telescope at some object at sea. My eyes followed thedirection of the glass, and I saw distinctly, about two miles beyond theeast cliff, a vessel lying dismasted upon the reef, with the seabreaking continually over her. 

“‘What vessel is that, Ned Jones?’ said I. 

“‘It’s the _Nancy_, ’ he replied, without taking his eye from the glass. ‘I know her by the white stripe along her black hull. She’s a perfectwreck, and both the brave lads are drowned. ’

“‘When did this happen?’ I shrieked, shaking him frantically by the arm. 

“‘She struck upon the reef at half-past one this morning. Our lads gotthe boat off, but too late to save the crew. ’

“‘Good God!’ I cried, reeling back, as if struck with a bolt of ice; andthe same deadly cold shiver ran through me. ‘It was his ghost, then, Isaw. ’[B]

 [B] I have told this story exactly as it was told to me by Flora’s nurse. The reader must judge how far the young girl’s imagination may have deceived her. Whether as a dream, or a reality, I have no doubt of the truth of her tale. 

“I don’t know how I got back to Mrs. Arthur. I never knew. Or, whetherit was from me she learned the terrible tidings of the death of hersons. I fell into a brain fever, and when I recovered my senses, Mrs. Arthur had been in her grave for some weeks. 

“In thinking over the events of that fearful night, the recollectionwhich pained me most was, that David’s last thought had been for hismother, —that during his death-struggle, she was dearer to him than me. It haunted me for years. At times it haunts me still. Whenever the windblows a gale, and the moon shines clear and cold, I fancy I can see himstanding below my window, in his dripping garments, and that sad paleface turned towards his mother’s casement; and I hear him call out, inthe rich, mellow voice I loved so well, —‘Mother, dearest mother, I havecome home to you. Open the door and let me in!’”

“It was a dream, Nurse, ” said Flora. 

“But supposing, Mrs. Lyndsay, that it was a dream. Is it less strangethat such a dream should occur at the very moment, perhaps, that he wasdrowned; and that his mother should fancy she heard him speak as well asI?”

“True, ” said Flora, “the mystery remains the same, and, for my own part, I never could get rid of a startling reality; because some people chooseto call it a mere coincidence. My faith embraces the spirit of the fact, and disclaims the coincidence, though after all, the coincidence is thebest proof of the fact. ”

“This event, ” continued Nurse, “cast a shadow over my life, which noafter sunshine ever dispelled. I never loved again, and gave up allthoughts of getting married from that hour. Perhaps I was wrong, for Irefused several worthy men, who would have given me a comfortable home;and I should not now, at my time of life, have to go out nursing, or bedependent upon a cross brother, for the shelter of a roof. If you willtake me to Canada with you, I only ask in return a home in my old age. ”

Flora was delighted with the project, but on writing about it to herhusband, she found him unwilling to take out a feeble old woman, who wasvery likely to die on the voyage; and Flora, with reluctance, declinedthe good woman’s offer. 

It happened very unfortunately for Flora, that her mother had in heremployment a girl, whose pretty feminine face and easy pliable manners, had rendered her a great favourite in the family. Whenever Flora visitedthe Hall, Hannah had taken charge of the baby, on whom she lavished themost endearing epithets and caresses. 

This girl had formed an imprudent intimacy with a farm servant in theneighbourhood, which had ended in her seduction. Her situation renderedmarriage a matter of necessity. In this arrangement of the matter, itrequired both parties should agree; and the man, who doubtless knew moreof the girl’s real character than her benevolent mistress, flatlyrefused to make her his wife. Hannah, in an agony of rage andcontrition, had confided her situation to her mistress; and implored hernot to turn her from her doors, or she would end her misery inself-destruction. 

“She had no home, ” she said, “in the wide world—and she dared not returnto her aunt, who was the only friend she had; and who, under existingcircumstances, she well knew, would never afford her the shelter of herroof. ”

Simple as this girl appeared, she knew well how to act her part; and sowon upon the compassion of Mrs. W——, that she was determined, ifpossible, to save her from ruin. Finding that Mrs. Lyndsay had failed inobtaining a servant, she applied to her on Hannah’s behalf, andrequested, as a favour, that she would take the forlorn creature withher to Canada. 

Flora at first rejected the proposal in disgust: in spite of Mrs. W——’shigh recommendation, there was something about the woman she did notlike; and much as she was inclined to pity her, she could not reconcileherself to the idea of making her the companion of her voyage. She couldnot convince herself that Hannah was worthy of the sympathy manifestedon her behalf. A certain fawning, servility of manner, led her toimagine that she was deceitful; and she was reluctant to entail uponherself the trouble and responsibility which must arise from hersituation, and the scandal it might involve. But her objections wereborne down by Mrs. W——’s earnest entreaties, to save, if possible, afellow creature from ruin. 

The false notions formed by most persons in England of the state ofsociety in Canada, made Mrs. W—— reject, as mere bugbears, all Flora’sfears as to the future consequences which might arise from her takingsuch a hazardous step. What had she to fear from ill-natured gossip in abarbarous country, so thinly peopled, that settlers seldom residedwithin a day’s journey of each other. If the girl was wise enough tokeep her own secret, who would take the trouble to find it out? Childrenwere a blessing in such a wilderness; and Hannah’s child, brought up inthe family, would be very little additional expense and trouble, andmight prove a most attached and grateful servant, forming a lasting tieof mutual benefit between the mother and her benefactress. The motherwas an excellent worker, and, until this misfortune happened, a good andfaithful girl. She was _weak_, to be sure; but then (what a fatalmistake) the more easily managed. Mrs. W——was certain that Flora wouldfind her a perfect treasure. 

All this sounded very plausible in theory, and savoured of romance. Flora found it in the end a dismal reality. She consented to receive thegirl as her servant, who was overjoyed at the change in her prospects;declaring that she never could do enough for Mrs. Lyndsay, for snatchingher from a life of disgrace and infamy. And so little Josey was providedwith a nurse, and Flora with a servant. 

CHAPTER XII. 

THE LAST HOURS AT HOME. 

To bid farewell to her mother and sisters, and the dear home of herchildhood, Flora regarded as her greatest trial. As each succeeding daybrought nearer the hour of separation, the prospect became moreintensely painful, and fraught with a thousand melancholy anticipations, which haunted her even in sleep; and she often awoke sick and faint atheart with the tears she had shed in a dream. 

“Oh that this dreadful parting were over!” she said to her friend MaryParnell. “I can contemplate, with fortitude, the trials of the future;but there is something so dreary, so utterly hopeless, in this breakingup of kindred ties and home associations, that it paralyses exertion. ”

Mrs. W——, Flora’s mother, was in the decline of life, and it was morethan probable that the separation would be for ever. This Flora feltvery grievously;—she loved her mother tenderly, and she could not bearto leave her. Mrs. W—— was greatly attached to her little grandchild;and, to mention the departure of the child, brought on a paroxysm ofgrief. 

“Let Josey stay with me, Flora, ” said she, as she covered its dimpledhands with kisses. “Let me not lose you both in one day. ”

“What! part with my child—my only child! Dearest mother, it isimpossible to grant your request. Whatever our future fortunes may be, she must share them with us. I could not bear up against the trialswhich await me with a divided heart. ”

“Consider the advantage it would be to the child. ”

“In the loss of both her parents?”

“In her exemption from hardship, and the education she would receive. ”

“I grant all that; yet Nature points out, that the interests of a childcannot safely be divided from those of its parents. ”

“You argue selfishly, Flora. You well know the child would be muchbetter off with me. ”

“I speak from my heart—the heart of a mother, which cannot, without itbelongs to a monster, plead against the welfare of its child. I know howdearly you love her—how painful it is for you to give her up; and thatshe would possess with you those comforts which, for her sake, we areabout to resign. But, if we leave her behind, we part with her ever. Sheis too young to remember us; and, without knowing us, how could she loveus?”

“She would be taught to love you. ”

“Her love would be of a very indefinite character. She would be toldthat she had a father and mother in a distant land, and be taught tomention us daily in her prayers. But where would be the faith, theendearing confidence, the holy love, with which a child, brought upunder the parental roof, regards the authors of its being. The lovewhich falls like dew from heaven upon the weary heart, which forms abalm for every sorrow, a solace for every care, —without its refreshinginfluence, what would the wealth of the world be to us?”

Flora’s heart swelled, and her eyes filled with tears. The eloquence ofan angel at that moment would have failed in persuading her to part withher child. 

Never did these painful feelings press more heavily on Flora’s mind, than when all was done in the way of preparation; when her work was allfinished, her trunks all packed, her little bills in the town all paid, her faithful domestics discharged, and nothing remained of activeemployment to hinder her from perpetually brooding over the sad prospectbefore her. 

She went to spend a last day at the old Hall, to bid farewell to the oldfamiliar haunts, endeared to her from childhood. 

“Flora, you must keep up your spirits, ” said her mother, kissing hertenderly; “nor let this parting weigh too heavily upon your heart. Weshall all meet again. ”

“In heaven, I hope, Mother. ”

“Yes, and on earth. ”

“Oh, no; it is useless to hope for that. No, never again on earth. ”

“Always hope for the best, Flora; it is my plan. I have found it truewisdom. Put on your bonnet, and take a ramble through the garden andmeadows; it will refresh you after so many harassing thoughts. Yourfavourite trees are in full leaf, the hawthorn hedges in blossom, andthe nightingales sing every evening in the wood-lane. You cannot feelmiserable among such sights and sounds of beauty in this lovely month ofMay, or you are not the same Flora I ever knew you. ”

“Ah, just the same faulty, impulsive, enthusiastic creature I ever was, dear mother. No change of circumstances will, I fear, change my nature;and the sight of these dear old haunts will only deepen the regret Ifeel at bidding them adieu. ”

Flora put on her bonnet, and went forth to take a last look of home. 

The Hall was an old-fashioned house, large, rambling, picturesque, andcold. It had been built in the first year of good Queen Bess. The backpart of the mansion appeared to have belonged to a period still moreremote. The building was surrounded by fine gardens, and lawn-likemeadows, and stood sheltered within a grove of noble old trees. It wasbeneath the shade of these trees, and reposing upon the velvet-likesward at their feet, that Flora had first indulged in those deliciousreveries—those lovely, ideal visions of beauty and perfection—whichcover with a tissue of morning beams all the rugged highways of life. Silent bosom friends were those dear old trees! Every noble sentiment ofher soul, —every fault that threw its baneful shadow on the sunlight ofher mind, —had been fostered, or grown upon her, in those pastoralsolitudes. Those trees had witnessed a thousand bursts of passionateeloquence, —a thousand gushes of bitter, heart-humbling tears. To themhad been revealed all the joys and sorrows, the hopes and fears, whichshe could not confide to the sneering and unsympathising of her own sex. The solemn druidical groves were not more holy to their imaginative andmysterious worshippers, than were those old oaks to the young Flora. 

Now the balmy breath of spring, as it gently heaved the tender greenmasses of brilliant foliage, seemed to utter a voice of thrillinglamentation, —a sad, soul-touching farewell. 

“Home of my childhood! must I see you no more?” sobbed Flora. “Are youto become to-morrow a vision of the past? O that the glory of spring wasnot upon the earth! that I had to leave you amid winter’s chillinggloom, and not in this lovely, blushing month of May! The emerald greenof these meadows—the gay flush of these bright blossoms—the joyous songof these glad birds—breaks my heart!”

And the poor emigrant sank down amid the green grass, and, burying herface among the fragrant daisies, imprinted a passionate kiss upon thesod, which was never, in time or eternity, to form a resting-place forher again. 

But a beam is in the dark cloud even for thee, poor Flora; thouheart-sick lover of nature. Time will reconcile thee to the change whichnow appears so dreadful. The human flowers destined to spring around thyhut in that far off wilderness, will gladden thy bosom in the strangeland to which thy course now tends; and the image of God, in hisglorious creation, will smile upon thee as graciously in the woods ofCanada, as it now does, in thy English Paradise. Yes, the hour willcome, when you shall exclaim with fervour, “Thank God, I am the denizen of a free land; a land of beauty andprogression. A land unpolluted by the groans of starving millions. Aland which opens her fostering arms to receive and restore to his longlost birthright, the trampled and abused child of poverty: to bid himstand up a free inheritor of a free soil, who so long laboured for ascanty pittance of bread, as an ignorant and degraded slave, in thecountry to which you now cling with such passionate fondness, and leavewith such heart-breaking regret. ”

When Flora returned from an extensive ramble through all her favouritewalks, she was agreeably surprised to find her husband conversing withMrs. W—— in the parlour. The unexpected sight of her husband, who hadreturned to cheer her some days sooner than the one he had named in hisletters, soon restored Flora’s spirits, and the sorrows of the futurewere forgotten in the joy of the present. 

Lyndsay had a thousand little incidents and anecdotes to relate of hisvisit to the great metropolis; to which Flora was an eager and delightedlistener. He told her that he had satisfactorily arranged all hispecuniary matters; and without sacrificing his half-pay, was able totake out about three hundred pounds sterling, which he thought, prudently managed, would enable him to make a tolerably comfortablesettlement in Canada, —particularly, as he would not be obliged topurchase a farm, being entitled to a grant of four hundred acres of wildland. 

He had engaged a passage in a fine vessel that was to sail from Leith, at the latter end of the week. 

“I found, that in going from Scotland, ” said Lyndsay, “we could be aswell accommodated for nearly half price; and it would give you theopportunity of seeing Edinburgh, and me the melancholy satisfaction oftaking a last look at the land of my birth. ”

“One of the London steamers will call for us to-morrow morning, on herway to Scotland, and I must hire a boat to-night, and get our luggageprepared for a start. A short notice, dear Flora, to a sad butinevitable necessity, I thought better for a person of your temperament, than a long and tedious anticipation of evil. Now all is prepared forthe voyage, delay is not only useless, but dangerous. So cheer up, darling, and be as happy and cheerful as you can. Let us spend the lastnight at home pleasantly together. ” He kissed Flora so affectionately, as he ceased speaking, that she not only promised obedience, butcontrived to smile through her tears. 

It was necessary for them to return instantly to the cottage, and Floratook leave of her mother, with a full heart. We will not dwell on suchpartings; they

 “Wring the blood from out young hearts, ”

as the poet has truly described them, making the snows of age descendupon the rose crowned brow of youth. 

Sorrowfully Flora returned to her pretty little cottage, which presenteda scene of bustle and confusion baffling description. Everything was outof place and turned upside down. Corded trunks and packages filled upthe passages and doorways; and formed stumbling blocks for kind friendsand curious neighbours, who crowded the house. Strange dogs forced theirway in after their masters, and fought and yelped in undisturbedpugnacity. The baby cried, and no one was at leisure to pacify her, anda cheerless and uncomfortable spirit filled the once peaceful and happyhome. 

Old Captain Kitson was in his glory; hurrying here and there, ordering, superintending, and assisting the general confusion, without in theleast degree helping on the work. He had taken upon himself the chargeof hiring the boat which was to convey the emigrants on board thesteamer; and he stood chaffering on the lawn for a couple of hours withthe sailors, to whom she belonged, to induce them to take a shillingless than the sum proposed. 

Tired with the altercation, and sorry for the honest tars, Lyndsay toldthe master of the boat to yield to the old Captain’s terms, and he wouldmake up the difference. The sailor answered with a knowing wink, andappeared reluctantly to consent to old Kitson’s wishes. 

“There, Mrs. Lyndsay, my dear, I told you these fellows would come to myterms rather than lose a good customer, ” cried the old man, rubbing hishands together in an ecstasy of self-gratulation. “Leave me to make abargain; the rogues cannot cheat me with their damned impositions. The_Leaftenant_ is too soft with these chaps; I’m an old sailor—they can’tcome over me. I have made them take one _pound_ for the use of theircraft, instead of _one and twenty_ shillings. ‘Take care of the pence, ’my dear, ‘and the pounds will take care of themselves. ’ I found thatout, long before poor Richard marked it down in his log. ”

Then sidling up to Flora, and putting his long nose into her face, hewhispered in her ear, —

“Now, my dear gall, don’t be offended with an old friend; but if youhave any old coats or hats that _Leaftenant_ Lyndsay does not thinkworth packing up, I shall be very glad of them, for my Charles. Mrs. K. Is an excellent hand at transmogrifying things, and in a large familysuch articles never come amiss. ”

Charles was the Captain’s youngest son. A poor idiot, who, thirty yearsof age, had the appearance of an overgrown boy. The other members of theCaptain’s _large_ family were all married and settled prosperously inthe world. Flora felt truly ashamed of the old man’s meanness, but wasglad to repay his trifling services in a way suggested by himself. Theweather for the last three weeks had been unusually fine, but towardsthe evening of this memorable 30th of May, large masses of clouds beganto rise in the north-west, and the sea changed its azure hue to a dullleaden grey. Old Kitson shook his head prophetically. 

“There’s a change of weather at hand, Mrs. Lyndsay; you may look out forsqualls before six o’clock to-morrow. The wind shifts every minute, andthere’s an ugly swell rolling in upon the shore. ”

“Ah, I hope it will be fine, ” said Flora, looking anxiously up at thetroubled sky; “it is so miserable to begin a long journey in the rain. Perhaps it will pass off during the night in a thunder-shower. ”

The old man whistled, shut one eye, and looked knowingly at the sea withthe other. 

“Women know about as much of the weather as your nurse does of handlinga rope. Whew! but there’s a gale coming; I’ll down to the beach, andtell the lads to haul up the boats, and make all snug before it bursts, ”and away toddled the old man, full of the importance of his mission. 

It was the last night at home—the last social meeting of kindred friendson this side the grave. Flora tried to appear cheerful, but the forcedsmile upon the tutored lips, rendered doubly painful the tears kept backin the swollen eyes; the vain effort of the sorrowful in heart to begay. Alas! for the warm hearts, the generous friendships, the kindlygreetings of dear Old England, when would they be hers again? Flora’sfriends at length took leave, and she was left with her husband alone. 

CHAPTER XIII. 

THE DEPARTURE. 

It was the dawn of day when Flora started from a broken, feverish sleep, aroused to consciousness by the heavy roaring of the sea, as the hugebillows thundered against the stony beach. To spring from her bed anddraw back the curtains of the window which commanded a full view of thebay, was but the work of a moment. How quickly she let it fall indespair over the cheerless prospect it presented to her sight! Far asthe eye could reach the sea was covered with foam. Not a sail wasvisible, and a dark leaden sky was pouring down torrents of rain. 

“What a morning!” she muttered to herself, as she stole quietly back tobed. “It will be impossible to put to sea to-day. ”

The sleep which had shunned her pillow during the greater part of thenight, gently stole over her, and “wrapped her senses in forgetfulness;”and old Kitson, two hours later, twice threw a pebble against thewindow, before she awoke. 

“_Leaftenant_ Lyndsay—_Leaftenant_ Lyndsay!” shouted the Captain, in avoice like a speaking-trumpet—“wind and tide wait for no man. Up, up, and be doing. ”

“Ay, ay, ” responded Lyndsay, rubbing his eyes, and going to the window. 

“See what a storm the night has been brewing for you, ” continued oldKitson. “It blows great guns, and there’s rain enough to float Noah’sark. Waters is here, and wants to see you. He says that his small craftwon’t live in a sea like this. You’ll have to put off your voyage tillthe steamer takes her next trip. ”

“That’s bad, ” said Lyndsay, hurrying on his clothes, and joining the oldsailor on the lawn. “Is there any chance, Kitson, of this holding up?”

“None. This is paying us off for three weeks fine weather, and may lastfor several days—at all events, till night. The steamer will be rattlingdown in an hour, with the wind and tide in her favour. Were you once onboard, _Leaftenant_, you might snap your fingers at this capful ofwind. ”

“We must make up our minds to lose our places, ” said Lyndsay, in a toneof deep vexation. 

“You have taken your places then?”

“Yes; and made a deposit of half the passage money. ”

“Humph! Now, _Leaftenant_ Lyndsay, that’s a thing I never do. I alwaystake my chance. I would rather lose my place in a boat, or a coach, thanlose my money. But young fellows like you never learn wisdom. Experienceis all thrown away upon you. But as we can’t remedy the evil now, wehad better step in and get a morsel of breakfast. This raw air makes onehungry. The wind may lull by that time. ” Then gazing at the sky with oneof his keen orbs, while he shaded with his hand the other, hecontinued—“It rains too hard for it to blow long at this rate; and theseason of the year is all in your favour. Go in—go in, and get somethingto eat, and we will settle over your wife’s good coffee what is best tobe done. ”

Lyndsay thought with the Captain, that the storm would abate, and hereturned to the anxious Flora, to report the aspect of things without. 

“It is a bad omen, ” said Flora, pouring out the coffee. “If we may judgeof the future by the present—it looks dark enough. ”

“Don’t provoke me into anger, Flora, by talking in such a childishmanner, and placing reliance upon an exploded superstition. Women are sofond of prognosticating evil, that I believe they are disappointed if itdoes not happen as they say. ”

“Well, reason may find fault with us if she will, ” said Flora; “but weare all more or less influenced by these mysterious presentiments; andsuffer trifling circumstances to give a colouring for good or evil tothe passing hour. My dear, cross philosopher, hand me the toast. ”

Flora’s defence of her favourite theory was interrupted by the arrivalof two very dear friends, who had come from a distance, through thestorm, to bid her good-bye. 

Mr. Hawke, the elder of the twain, was an author of considerablecelebrity in his native county, and a most kind and excellent man. Hebrought with him his second son, a fine lad of twelve years of age, toplace under Lyndsay’s charge. James Hawke had taken a fancy to settle inCanada, and a friend of the family, who was located in the Backwoods ofthat far region, had written to his father, that he would take the lad, and initiate him in the mysteries of the axe, if he could find a personto bring him over. Lyndsay had promised to do this, and the boy, who hadthat morning parted with his mother and little brothers and sisters, forthe first time in his life, in spite of the elastic spirits of youth, looked sad and dejected. 

Mr. Hawke’s companion was a young Quaker, who had known Flora from agirl, and had always expressed the greatest interest in her welfare. 

Adam Mansel was a handsome, talented man, whose joyous disposition, andmirthful humour, could scarcely be trammelled down by the severeconventional rules of the Society to which he belonged. Adam’s exquisitetaste for music, and his great admiration for horses and dogs, savouredrather of the camp of the enemy. But his love for these forbiddencarnalities was always kept within bounds, and only known to a few veryparticular friends. 

“Friend Flora, ” he said, taking her hand, and giving it a most heartyand cordial shake, “this is a sad day to those who have known thee long, and loved thee well; and a foul day for the commencement of such animportant journey. Bad beginnings, they say, make bright endings; sothere is hope for thee yet in the stormy cloud. ”

“Flora, where are your omens now?” said Lyndsay, triumphantly. “Eitheryou or friend Adam must be wrong. ”

“Or the proverb I quoted, say rather, ” returned Adam. “Proverbs oftenbear a double meaning, and can be interpreted as well one way as theother. The ancients were cunning fellows in this respect, and weredetermined to make themselves true prophets at any rate. ”

“What a miserable day, ” said the poet, turning from the window, where hehad been contemplating thoughtfully the gloomy aspect of things without. His eye fell sadly upon his son. “It is enough to chill the heart. ”

“When I was a boy at school, ” said Adam, “I used to think that God sentall the rain upon holidays, on purpose to disappoint us of our sport. Ifound that most things in life happened contrary to our wishes; and Iused to pray devoutly, that all the Saturdays might prove wet, firmlybelieving that it would be sure to turn out the reverse. ”

“According to your theory, Mansel, ” said Mr. Hawke, “Mrs. Lyndsay musthave prayed for a very fine day. ”

“Dost thee call this a holiday?” returned the Quaker, with a twinkle ofquiet humour in his bright brown eyes. 

Mr. Hawke suppressed a sigh, and his glance again fell on his boy; and, hurrying to the window, he mechanically drew his hand across his eyes. 

Here the old Captain came bustling in, full of importance, chuckling, rubbing his hands, and shaking his dripping fearnaught, with an air ofgreat satisfaction. 

“You will not be disappointed, my dear, ” addressing himself to Mrs. Lyndsay. “The wind has fallen off a bit; and, though the sea is toorough for the small craft, Palmer, the captain of the pilot-boat, hasbeen with me; and, for the consideration of two pounds (fortyshillings), —a large sum of money, by-the-bye, —I will try and beat himdown to thirty, —he says he will launch the great boat, and man her withtwelve stout young fellows, who will take you, bag and baggage, on boardthe steamer, though the gale were blowing twice as stiff. You have nomore to fear in that fine boat, than you have sitting at your ease inthat arm-chair. So make up your mind, my dear; for you have no time tolose. ”

Flora looked anxiously from her husband to her child, and then at theblack, pouring sky, and the raging waters. 

“There is no danger, Flora, ” said Lyndsay. “These fine boats can live inalmost any sea. But the rain will make it very uncomfortable for you andthe child. ”

“The discomfort will only last a few minutes, Mrs. Lyndsay, ” said oldKitson. “Those chaps will put you on board before you can say JackRobinson. ”

“It is better to bear a ducking than lose our passage in the_Chieftain_, ” said Flora. “There cannot be much to apprehend from theviolence of the storm, or twelve men would never risk their lives forthe value of forty shillings. Our trunks are all in the boat-house, ourservants discharged, and our friends gone; we have no longer a home, andI am impatient to commence our voyage. ”

“You are right, Flora. Dress yourself and the child, and I will engagethe boat immediately. ” And away bounded Lyndsay to make their finalarrangements, and see the luggage safely stowed away in the pilot-boat. 

Captain Kitson seated himself at the table, and began discussing abeefsteak with all the earnestness of a hungry man. From time to time, as his appetite began to slacken, he addressed a word of comfort orencouragement to Mrs. Lyndsay, who was busy wrapping up the baby for herperilous voyage. 

“That’s right, my dear. Take care of the young one; ’tis the mosttroublesome piece of lumber you have with you. A child and a cat aretwo things which never ought to come on board a ship. But take courage, my dear. Be like our brave Nelson; never look behind you after enteringupon difficulties; it only makes bad worse, and does no manner of good. You will encounter rougher gales than this before you have crossed theAtlantic. ”

“I hope that we shall not have to wait long for the steamer, ” saidFlora. “I dread this drenching rain for the poor babe, far more than thestormy sea. ”

“Wait, ” responded the old man, “the steamer will be rattling down in notime; it is within an hour of her usual time. But Mrs. Lyndsay, mydear, ”—hastily pushing from him his empty plate, and speaking with hismouth full—“I have one word to say to you in private, before you go. ”

Flora followed the gallant captain into the kitchen, marvelling in herown mind what this private communication could be. The old man shut thedoor carefully behind him; then said, in a mysterious whisper—“The oldclothes; do you remember what I said to you last night?”

Taken by surprise, Flora looked down, coloured, and hesitated; she wasafraid of wounding his feelings. Simple woman! the man was withoutdelicacy, and had no feelings to wound. 

“There is a bundle of things, Captain Kitson, ” she faltered out at last, “in the press in my bedroom, for Mr. Charles—coats, trowsers, and otherthings. I was ashamed to mention to you such trifles. ”

“Never mind—never mind, my dear; I am past blushing at my time of life;and reelly—(he always called it reelly)—I am much obliged to you. ”

After a pause, in which both looked supremely foolish, the old mancontinued—“There was a china cup and two plates—pity to spoil theset—that your careless maid broke the other day in the washhouse. DidMrs. K. Mention them to you, my dear?”

“Yes, sir, and they are _paid_ for, ” said Flora, turning with disgustfrom the sordid old man. “Have you anything else to communicate?”

“All right, ” said the Captain. “Here is your husband looking for you. The boat is ready. ”

“Flora, we only wait for you, ” said Lyndsay. Flora placed the preciousbabe in her father’s arms, and they descended the steep flight of stepsthat led from the cliff to the beach. 

In spite of the inclemency of the weather a crowd of old and young hadassembled on the beach to witness their embarcation, and bid themfarewell. 

The hearty “God bless you! God grant you a prosperous voyage, and abetter home than the one you leave, on the other side of the Atlantic!”burst from the lips of many an honest tar; and brought the tears intoFlora’s eyes, as the sailors crowded round the emigrants, to shakehands with them before they stepped into the noble boat that lay rockingin the surf. 

Precious to Flora and Lyndsay were the pressure of those hard roughhands. They expressed the honest sympathy felt, by a true-hearted set ofpoor men, in their present situation and future welfare. 

“You are not going without one parting word with me!” cried MaryParnell, springing down the steep bank of stones, against whichthundered the tremendous surf. The wind had blown her straw bonnet backupon her shoulders, and scattered her fair hair in beautiful confusionround her lovely face. 

The weeping, agitated girl was alternately clasped in the arms ofLyndsay and his wife. 

“Why did you expose yourself, dear Mary, to weather like this?”

“Don’t talk of weather, ” sobbed Mary; “I only know that we must part. Doyou begrudge me the last look? Good-bye! God bless you both!”

Before Flora could speak another word, she was caught up in the arms ofa stout seaman, who safely deposited both the mother and her child inthe boat. Lyndsay, Mr. Hawke, his son, Adam Mansel, and lastly Hannah, followed. Three cheers arose from the sailors on the beach. The gallantboat dashed through the surf, and was soon bounding over the giantbillows. 

Mr. Hawke and friend Adam had never been on the sea before, but theydetermined not to bid adieu to the emigrants until they saw them safe onboard the steamer. 

“I will never take a last look of the dear home in which I have passedso many happy hours, ” said Flora, resolutely turning her back to theshore. “I cannot yet realize the thought that I am never to see itagain. ”

CHAPTER XIV. 

AN OPEN BOAT AT SEA. 

Flora’s spirits rose in proportion to the novelty and danger of hersituation. All useless regrets and repinings were banished from herbreast the moment she embarked upon that stormy ocean. The parting, which, when far off, had weighed so heavily on her heart, was over; thepresent was full of excitement and interest; the time for action hadarrived; and the consciousness that they were actually on their way to adistant clime, braced her mind to bear with becoming fortitude thisgreat epoch of her life. 

The gale lulled for a few minutes, and Flora looked up to the leadensky, in the hope of catching one bright gleam from the sun. He seemed tohave abdicated his throne that day, and refused to cast even a glimpseupon the dark, storm-tossed waters, or cheer with his presence thedeparture of the emigrants. 

The gentlemen made an effort to be lively. The conversation turned onthe conduct of women under trying circumstances—the courage andconstancy they had shown in situations of great peril—animating the mento fresh exertions by their patient endurance of suffering andprivation. Mr. Hawke said, “That all travellers had agreed in theirobservations upon the conduct of females to strangers; and that, whentravelling, they had never had occasion to complain of the women. ”

At this speech, Lyndsay, who began to feel all the horrible nausea ofsea-sickness, raised his head from between his hands, and replied with asmile, “That it was the very reverse with women, for, when theytravelled, they had most reason to complain of the men. ”

The effects of the stormy weather soon became very apparent among thepassengers in the pilot-boat—sickness laid its leaden grasp upon all thefresh-water sailors. Even Lyndsay, a hardy Islander, and used to boatsand boating all his life, yielded passively to the attacks of therelentless fiend of the salt waters, with rigid features, and a facepale as the faces of the dead. He sat with his head bowed between hishands, as motionless as if he had suddenly been frozen into stone. Floraoften lifted the cape of the cloak which partially concealed his face, to ascertain that he was still alive. 

The anxiety she felt in endeavouring to protect her infant from thepouring rain, perhaps acted as an antidote to this distressing malady, for, though only just out of a sick bed, she did not feel the leastqualmish. 

Hannah, the servant, lay stretched at the bottom of the boat, her headsupported by the ballast-bags, in a state too miserable to describe;while James Hawke, the lad who was to accompany them in their longvoyage, had sunk into a state of happy unconsciousness, after havingvainly wished, for the hundredth time, that he was safe on shore, scampering over the village green with his twelve brothers and sisters, and not tempting the angry main in an open boat, with the windows ofheaven discharging waters enough upon his defenceless head to drownhim—without speaking of the big waves that every moment burst into theboat, giving him a salt bath upon a gigantic scale. 

After an hour’s hard rowing, the _King William_ (for so their boat wascalled), cast anchor in the roadstead, distant about eight miles fromthe town, and lay to, waiting for the coming-up of the steamer. 

Hours passed away, —the day wore slowly onward, —but still the vessel theyexpected did not appear. The storm, which had lulled till noon, increased in violence, until it blew “great guns, ” to use the sailors’nautical phraseology; and signs of uneasiness began to be manifested bythe hardy crew of the pilot-boat. 

“Some accident must have befallen the steamer, ” said Palmer, the captainof the boat, to Craigie, a fine, handsome young seaman, as he handed himthe bucket to bale the water from their vessel. “I don’t like this;I’ll be —— if I do! If the wind increases, and remains in the presentquarter, a pretty kettle of fish it will make of us. We may be thankfulif we escape with our lives. ”

“Is there any danger?” demanded Flora eagerly, as she clasped her wet, cold baby closer to her breast. The child had been crying piteously forthe last hour. 

“Yes, Madam, ” he replied respectfully; “we have been in considerabledanger all day. The wind is increasing with the coming in of the tide;and I see no prospect of its clearing up. As the night comes on, do yesee, and if we do not fall in with the _Soho_, we shall have to haul upthe anchor, and run before the gale; and, with all my knowledge of thecoast, we may be driven ashore, and the boat swamped in the surf. ”

Flora sighed, and wished herself safe at home, in her dear, snug, littleparlour; the baby asleep in the cradle, and Lyndsay reading aloud to heras she worked, or playing on his flute. 

The rain again burst down in torrents, —the thunder roared over theirheads, —and the black, lurid sky, looked as if it contained a seconddeluge. Flora shivered with cold and exhaustion, and bent more closelyover the child, to protect her as much as possible, by the exposure ofher own person, from the drenching rain and spray. 

“Ah! this is sad work for women and children!” said the honest tar, drawing a large tarpaulin over the mother and child. Blinded anddrenched by the pelting of the pitiless shower, Flora crouched down inthe bottom of the boat, in patient endurance of what might befal. Thewind blew piercingly cold; and the spray of the huge billows which burstcontinually over them, enveloped the small craft in a feathery cloud, effectually concealing from her weary passengers the black waste ofraging waters which roared around and beneath them. 

The poor infant was starving with hunger, and all Flora’s efforts tokeep it quiet proved unavailing. The gentlemen were as sick and helplessas the baby, and nothing could well increase their wretchedness. Theyhad now been ten hours at sea; and, not expecting the least detentionfrom the non-arrival of the steamer, nothing in the way of refreshmenthad formed any part of their luggage. Those who had escaped the horrorsof sea-sickness, of which Flora was one, were suffering from thirst, while the keen air had sharpened their appetites to a ravenous degree. 

In spite of their forlorn situation, Flora could not help being amusedby the gay, careless manner, in which the crew of the boat contendedwith these difficulties. 

“Well, I’ll be blowed if I arn’t hungry!” cried Craigie, as he stood upin the boat, with his arms folded, and his nor’wester pulled over hiseyes, to ward off the drenching rain. “Nothin’ would come amiss to menow, in the way of prog. I could digest a bit of the shark thatswallowed Jonah, or pick a rib of the old prophet himself, withoutmaking a wry face. ”

“I wonder which would prove the tougher morsel of the two, ” said Mr. Hawke, raising his languid head from the bench before him, and whoselove of fun overcame the deadly pangs of sea-sickness. 

“A dish of good beefsteaks from the Crown Inn would be worth them both, friend, ” said Adam Mansel, who, getting better of the sea-sickness, likeCraigie, began to feel the pangs of hunger. 

“You may keep the dish, mister, ” returned Craigie, laughing; “give methe grub. ”

“Ah, how bitter!” groaned James Hawke, raising himself up from thefurled sail which had formed his bed, and yielding to the terriblenausea that oppressed him. 

“Ay, ay, my lad, ” said an ancient mariner, on whose tanned face time andexposure to sun and storm had traced a thousand hieroglyphics;“nothing’s sweet that’s so contrary to natur’. Among the bitter thingsof life, there’s scarcely a worse than the one that now troubles you. Sick at sea, —well on shore; so there’s comfort for you!”

“Cold comfort, ” sighed the boy, as he again fell prostrate on the wetsail. A huge billow broke over the side of the boat, and deluged himwith brine. He did not heed it, having again relapsed into his formerinsensible state. 

“The bucket aft, ” shouted Palmer. “It’s wanted to bale the boat. ”

“The bucket’s engaged, ” said Craigie, bowing with ludicrous politeness, to poor Hannah, whose head he was supporting, “I must first attend tothe lady. ”

The patience of the handsome young Quaker, under existing difficulties, was highly amusing. He bore the infliction of the prevailing malady withsuch a benign air of resignation, that it was quite edifying. Wiping thesalt water from his face with a pocket-handkerchief of snowy whiteness, he exclaimed, turning to Flora, who was sitting at his feet with Joseyin her arms, “Friend Flora, this sea-sickness is an evil emetic. Ittries a man’s temper, and makes him guilty of the crime of wishinghimself at the bottom of the sea. ”

“If you could rap out a good round oath or two, Mister Quaker, withoutchoking yourself, it would do you a power of good, ” said Craigie. “What’s the use of a big man putting up with the like o’ that, like aweak gall—women were made to bear—man to resist. ”

“The Devil, and he will flee from them, ” said Adam. 

“You smooth-faced, unshaved fellows, have him always at your elbow, ”said Craigie. “He teaches you long prayers—us big oaths. I wonder whichcargo is the best to take to heaven. ”

“Two blacks don’t make a white, friend, ” said Adam, good-naturedly. “Blasphemy, or hypocrisy either, is sufficient to sink the ship. ”

Night was now fast closing over the storm-tossed voyagers. The boat washalf full of water, which flowed over Flora’s lap, and she began to feelvery apprehensive for the safety of her child. At this moment, a largeretriever dog which belonged to the captain of the boat, crept into herlap; and she joyfully placed the baby upon his shaggy back, and thewarmth of the animal seemed greatly to revive the poor shivering Josey. 

It was nearly dark when Palmer roused Lyndsay from his stupor, andsuggested the propriety of their return to ——. “You see, Sir, ” he said, “I am quite willing to wait for the arrival of the _Soho_, but somethingmust have gone wrong with her, or she would have been down before this. The crew of the boat have been now ten hours exposed to the storm, without a morsel of food, and if the wind should change, we should haveto run in for the Port of Y——, twenty miles distant from this. Underexisting circumstances, I think it advisable to return. ”

“By all means, ” said Lyndsay. “This might have been done three hoursago;” and the next minute, to Flora’s inexpressible joy, the anchor washoisted, and the gallant boat once more careering over the mightybillows. 

Her face was once more turned towards that dear home, to whichshe had bidden adieu in the morning; as she then imagined, forever—“England”—she cried, stretching her arms towards the duskyshore. “Dear England! The winds and waves forbid our leaving you. Welcome, —oh, welcome, once more. ”

As they neared the beach, the stormy clouds parted in rifted masses; andthe deep blue heavens, studded here and there with a pale star, gleamedlovingly down upon them; the rain ceased its pitiless pelting, the veryelements seemed to smile upon their return. 

The pilot boat had been reported during the day as lost, and the beachwas crowded with anxious men and women to hail its return. The wives andchildren of her crew pressed forward to meet them with joyfulacclamations; and Flora’s depressed spirits rose with the excitement ofthe scene. 

“Hold fast your baby, Mrs. Lyndsay, while the boat clears the surf, ”cried Palmer. “I’ll warrant that you both get a fresh ducking. ”

As he spoke, the noble boat cut like an arrow through the line offormidable breakers which thundered on the beach; the foam flew infeathery volumes high above their heads, drenching them with a mistyshower; the keel grated upon the shingles, and a strong arm liftedFlora once more upon her native land. 

Benumbed and cramped with their long immersion in salt water, her limbshad lost the power of motion, and Lyndsay and old Kitson carried herbetween them up the steps which led from the beach to the top of thecliffs, and deposited her safely on the sofa in the little parlour ofher deserted home. 

CHAPTER XV. 

ONCE MORE AT HOME. 

A cheerful fire was blazing in the grate; the fragrant tea was smokingon the well-covered table, and dear and familiar voices rang in herears, as sisters and friends crowded about Flora to offer theirservices, and congratulate her on her safe return. 

“Ah, does not this repay us for all our past sufferings?” cried Flora, after the first hearty salutations of her friends were over. “And thebaby! where is the baby?”

Josey was laughing and crowing in the arms of her old nurse, looking asfresh and as rosy as if nothing had happened to disturb her repose. 

“Welcome once more to old England! dear Flora, ” said Mary Parnell, kissing the cold, wet cheek of her friend. “When I said that we shouldmeet again, I did not think that it would be so soon. Thank God, you areall safe! For many hours it was believed that the boat had been swampedin the gale, and that you were all lost. You may imagine the distress ofyour mother and sisters, and the anguish the report occasioned us all, and how we rejoiced when Waters ran up with the blessed news that theboat was returning, and that her crew was safe. But come up-stairs, myFlora, and change these dripping clothes. There is a nice fire in yourbedroom, and I have provided everything necessary for your comfort. ”

“Don’t talk of her changing her clothes, Miss Parnell, ” said the oldCaptain, bustling in. “Undress and put her to bed immediately, betweenhot blankets, and I will make her a good stiff glass ofbrandy-and-water, to drive the cold out of her, or she may fall into asickness which no doctor can cure. Cut your yarn short, I say, or Ishall have to take charge of her myself. ”

“Captain Kitson is right, Mary, ” said Lyndsay, who just then enteredfrom superintending the removal of his luggage from the boat, accompanied by a group of friends, all anxious to congratulate Mrs. Lyndsay on her providential escape. “My dear Flora, you must be a goodgirl, and go instantly to bed. ”

“It will be so dull”—and Flora glanced at the group of friendly faces, beaming with affection and kindness; “I should enjoy myself here somuch. Now, John, do not send me away to bed, and keep all the fun toyourself—the bright, cheery fire and all the good things. ”

Lyndsay looked grave, and whispered something in her ear about the baby, and the madness of risking a bad cold. Whatever was the exact import ofhis communication, it had the effect of producing immediate obedience tohis wishes, and Flora reluctantly quitted the social group, and retiredto her own chamber. 

“Ah, Mary, ” she said, as Miss Parnell safely deposited her and theprecious baby between the hot blankets, “it was worth braving a thousandstorms to receive such a welcome back. I never knew how much our dearkind friends loved us before. ”

“And now we have got you safe back, Flora, who knows what may happen toprevent your leaving us again; Lyndsay may change his mind, and preferbeing happy on a small income at home to seeking his fortune in astrange land. ”

Flora shook her head. 

“I know him better than you do, Mary. When once he has made up his mindto any step which he considers necessary, a little difficulty and dangerwill only stimulate him to exertion, and make him more eager toprosecute his voyage. ”

Whilst sipping the potion prescribed by old Kitson, and giving Mary anaccount of all the perils they had encountered during the day, Nursecame running up-stairs to say that Captain Kitson thought that the_Soho_ was just rounding the point off the cliff, and he wanted to know, that if it really proved to be her, whether Mrs. Lyndsay would get upand once more trust herself upon the waves?

“Not to-night, Nurse, if a fortune depended upon it, ” said Flora, laughing. “Tell the Captain that I have spent the day in a salt-bath, and mean to pass the night in my bed. ”

Fortunately, Mrs. Lyndsay was not put to this fresh trial. The Captainhad mistaken the craft, and she was permitted to enjoy the warmth andcomfort of a sound sleep, unbroken by the peals of laughter, that fromtime to time ascended from the room beneath; where the gentlemen seemeddetermined to make the night recompense them for the dangers andprivations of the day. 

The morning brought its own train of troubles—and when do they ever comesingly? Upon examination, Lyndsay found that the salt-water hadpenetrated into all their trunks and cases; and that everything wouldhave to be unpacked and hung out to dry. This was indeed dull work, thedisappointment and loss attending upon it rendering it doubly irksome. 

While Flora and her friend Mary superintended this troublesome affair, Lyndsay lost no time in writing to the steamboat company, informing themof his disastrous attempt to meet the _Soho_; and the loss he hadincurred by missing the vessel. They stated in reply, that the boat hadbeen wrecked at the mouth of the Thames, in the gale; and that anotherboat would supply her place on the Sunday following; that she would passthe town at noon, and hoist a red flag at her stern, as a signal forthem to get on board. 

This was Thursday, and the intervening days passed heavily along. Arestless fever of expectation preyed upon Flora. She could settle to noregular occupation; she knew that the delay only involved a fresh andheavy expense, that they must ultimately go, and she longed to be off. The efforts made by her friends to amuse and divert her, only increasedher impatience. But time, however slowly it passes to the anxiousexpectant, swiftly and surely ushers in the appointed day. 

Sunday came at last, and proved one of the loveliest mornings of thatdelightful season of spring and sunshine. The lark carolled high in theair, the swallows darted on light wings to and fro; and the sea, vastand beautiful, gently heaved and undulated against the shore, withscarcely a ripple to break the long line of golden light, which dancedand sparkled on its breast. The church bells were chiming for morningprayer; and the cliffs were covered with happy groups in their holidayattire. Flora, surrounded by friends and relatives, strove to becheerful; and the day was so promising, that it infused new life andspirit into her breast. All eyes were turned to that part of thehorizon, on which the long, black trailing smoke of the steamer wasfirst expected to appear. A small boat, which had been engaged to putthem and their luggage on board, and which contained all their worldlychattels, lay rocking in the surf, and all was ready for a start. 

In the midst of an animated discussion on their future prospects, thesignal was given, that the steamer was in sight, and had already roundedthe point. How audibly to herself did Flora’s heart beat, as a small, black speck in the distance gradually increased to a black cloud; andnot a doubt remained, that this was the expected vessel. 

Then came the blinding tears, the re-enactment of the last passionateadieus, and they were once more afloat upon the water. 

CHAPTER XVI. 

THE FOG. 

The human heart is made of elastic stuff; and can scarcely experience onthe same subject an equal intensity of grief. Repetition had softenedthe anguish of this second parting; the bitterness of grief was alreadypast; and the sun of hope was calmly rising above the clouds of sorrow, which had hung for the last weary days so loweringly above ouremigrants. Mr. Hawke and his son alone accompanied them on this secondexpedition. Adam Mansel had had enough of the sea, during their lateadventure, and thought it most prudent to make his adieus on shore. 

James Hawke was in high spirits; anticipating with boyish enthusiasm, the adventures which might fall to his share during a long voyage; andhis sojourn in that distant land, which was to prove to him a very landof Goshen. Many gay hopes smiled upon him, which, like that bright sunnyday, were doomed to have a gloomy ending, although at the beginning itpromised so fair. 

The owner of the boat, a morose old seaman, grumbled out his commands tothe two sailors who managed the craft, in such a dogged, sulky tone, that it attracted the attention of the elder Hawke, and being naturallyfond of fun, he endeavoured to draw him out. An abrupt monosyllable wasthe sole reply he could obtain to any one of his many questions. 

Lyndsay was highly amused by his surly humour, and flattered himselfthat _he_ might prove more successful than his friend, by startling thesea-bear into a more lengthy growl. 

“Friend, ” said he carelessly, “I have forgotten your name?”

“Sam Rogers, ” was the brief reply; uttered in a short grunt. 

“Does the boat belong to you?”

“Yes. ”

“She looks as if she had seen hard service?”

“Yes; both of us are the worse for wear. ”

The ice once broken, Mr. Hawke chimed in—“Have you a wife, CaptainRogers?”

“She’s in the churchyard, ” with a decided growl. 

“So much the better for Mrs. Rogers, ” whispered Lyndsay to Flora. 

“You had better let the animal alone, ” said Flora in the same tone:“’Tis sworn to silence. ”

“Have you any family, Captain Rogers?” recommenced the incorrigibleHawke. 

“Ay; more than’s good. ”

“Girls, or boys?”

“What’s that to you? Too many of both. Why do you call me Captain? Youknows well enough that I’m not a captain; never was a captain, and neverwants to be. ”

After this rebuff, the surly Rogers was left to smoke his short blackpipe in peace, and in a few minutes the little boat came alongside thehuge Leviathan of the deep. A rope was thrown from her deck, whichhaving been secured, the following brief dialogue ensued:

“The _City of Edinburgh_, for Edinburgh?”

“The _Queen of Scotland_, for Aberdeen, Captain Fraser. ”

This announcement was followed by a look of blank astonishment anddisappointment from the party in the boat. 

“Where is the _City of Edinburgh_?”

“We left her in the river. You had better take a passage with us toAberdeen, ” said Captain Fraser, advancing to the side of his vessel. 

“Two hundred miles out of my way, ” said Lyndsay. “Fall off. ” The towrope was cast loose, and the floating castle resumed her thunderingcourse, leaving the party in the boat greatly disconcerted by themisadventure. 

“The _City of Edinburgh_ must soon be here?” said Lyndsay, addressinghimself once more to Sam Rogers. That sociable individual continuedsmoking his short pipe without deigning to notice the speaker. “Had wenot better lay-to, and wait for her coming up?”

“No; we should be run down by her. Do you see yon?” pointing with hispipe, to a grey cloud that was rolling over the surface of the seatowards them; “that’s the sea rake—in three minutes: in less than threeminutes, you will not be able to discern objects three yards beyond yournose. ”

“Pleasant news, ” said Mr. Hawke, with rather a dolorous sigh. “This mayturn out as bad as our last scrape. Lyndsay, you are an unlucky fellow. If you go on as you have begun, it will be some months before you reachCanada. ”

In less time than the old man had prognosticated, the dense fog hadrapidly spread itself over the water, blotting the sun from the heavens, and enfolding every object in its chilly embrace. The shores faded fromtheir view, the very ocean on which they floated, was heard, but nolonger seen. Nature seemed to have lost her identity, covered with thatwhite sheet, which enveloped her like a shroud. Flora strove in vain topierce the thick misty curtain by which they were surrounded. Her wholeworld was now confined to the little boat and the persons it contained:the rest of creation had become a blank. The fog wetted like rain, andwas more penetrating, and the constant efforts she made to see throughit, made her eyes and head ache, and cast a damp upon her spirits whichalmost amounted to despondency. 

“What is to be done?” asked Lyndsay, who shared the same feelings incommon with his wife. 

“Nothing, that I know of, ” responded Sam Rogers, “but to return. ”

As he spoke a dark shadow loomed through the fog, which proved to be asmall trading vessel, bound from London to Yarmouth. The sailors hailedher, and with some difficulty ran the boat alongside. 

“Have you passed the _City of Edinburgh_?”

“We spake her in the river. She ran foul of the _Courier_ steamer, andunshipped her rudder. She put back for repairs, and won’t be down tillto-morrow morning. ”

“The devil!” muttered Sam Rogers. 

“Agreeable tidings for us, ” sighed Flora. “This is worse than the storm;it is so unexpected. I should be quite disheartened, did I not believethat Providence directed these untoward events. ”

“I am inclined to be of your opinion, Flora, ” said Lyndsay, “in spite ofmy disbelief in signs and omens. There is something beyond mere accidentin this second disappointment. ”

“Is it not a solemn warning to us, not to leave England?” said Flora. 

“I was certain that would be your interpretation of the matter, ”returned her husband; “but having put my hand to the plough, Flora, Iwill not turn back. ”

The sailors now took to their oars, the dead calm precluding the use ofthe sail, and began to steer their course homewards. The fog was sodense and bewildering that they made little way, and the long day wasspent in wandering to and fro without being able to ascertain where theywere. 

“Hark!” cried one of the men, laying his ear to the side of the boat, “Ihear the flippers of the steamer. ”

“It is the roar of the accursed _Barnet_, ” cried the other. “I know itsvoice of old, having twice been wrecked upon the reef—we must change ourcourse; we are on a wrong tack altogether. ”

It was near midnight before a breeze sprang up and dispelled the ominousfog. The moon showed her wan face through the driving scud, the sail wasat last hoisted, and cold and hungry, and sick at heart, our voyagersonce more returned to their old port. 

This time, however, the beach was silent and deserted. No friendly voicewelcomed them back. Old Kitson looked cross at being roused out of hisbed at one o’clock in the morning, to admit them into the house, muttering as he did so, something about “unlucky folks, and the deal oftrouble they gave; that they had better give up going to Canadaaltogether, and hire their old lodgings again; that it was no joke, having his rest broken at his time of life; that he could not afford tokeep open house at all hours, for people who were in no ways related tohim. ”

With such consoling expressions of sympathy in their forlorn condition, did the hard, worldly old man proceed to unlock the door of their formerdomicile; but food, lights, and firing, he would not produce, untilLyndsay had promised ample remuneration for the same. 

Exhausted in mind and body, for she had not broken her fast since eighto’clock that morning, Flora for a long time refused to partake of thewarm cup of tea her loving partner had made with his own hands for herespecial benefit; and her tears continued to fall involuntarily over thesleeping babe which lay upon her lap. 

Mr. Hawke saw that her nerves were completely unstrung by fatigue, andran across the green, and called up Flora’s nurse to take charge of theinfant. 

Mrs. Clarke, kind creature that she was, instantly hurried to the houseto do what she could for the mother and child. Little Josey was soonwell warmed and fed, and Flora smiled through her tears, when herhusband made his appearance. 

“Come, Flora, ” he cried, “you are ill for the want of food, —I am goingto make some sandwiches for you, and you must be a good girl and eatthem, or I will never cater for you again. ”

Mr. Hawke exerted all his powers of drollery to enliven themiscellaneous meal, and Flora soon retired to rest, fully determined tobear the crosses of life with more fortitude for the future. 

The sun was not above the horizon, when she was roused, however, from adeep sleep, by the stentorian voice of old Kitson, who, anxious to getrid of his troublesome visitors, cried out, with great glee, —“Hallo! Isay—here is the right steamer at last. —Better late than never. The redflag is hoisted at her stern; and she is standing right in for the bay. Quick! Quick, _Leaftenant_ Lyndsay! or you’ll be too late. ”

With all possible despatch Flora dressed herself, though baffled byanxiety from exerting unusual celerity. The business of the toilet hadto be performed in such a brief space, that it was impossible to attendto it with any nicety. At last all was completed; Flora hurried down tothe beach, with Hannah and Mrs. Clarke, James Hawke and Lyndsay havingpreceded them to arrange their passage to the steamer. 

“Make haste, Mrs. Lyndsay, ” shouted old Kitson; “these big dons wait forno one. I have got all your trunks stowed away into the boat, and thelads are waiting. If you miss your passage the third time, you may giveit up as a bad job. ”

In a few minutes Flora was seated in the boat, uncheered by any partingblessing but the cold farewell, and for ever, of old Captain Kitson, who could scarcely conceal the joy he felt at their departure. Themorning was wet and misty, and altogether comfortless, and Flora wasglad when the bustle of getting on board the steamer was over, and theywere safe upon her deck. 

CHAPTER XVII. 

THE STEAMBOAT. 

In spite of the early hour, and the disagreeable weather, a number ofpersons, glad to escape from the close confinement of the cabins, werepacing the deck of the steamer. Others were leaning over the bulwarks, regarding the aspect of the country they were rapidly passing; whilesome were talking in small groups, in a loud declamatory tone, evidentlymore intent on attracting the attention of the bystanders than ofedifying their own immediate listeners. Though bright eyes might lookheavy, and fair faces languid and sleepy, vanity was wide awake, andnever more active than in the midst of a crowd, where all are strangersto each other. It affords such a glorious opportunity for display forpretenders to rank and importance to show off their affected airs ofwealth and consequence; and the world can lay bare its rotten heart, without much fear of detection, or dread of unpleasant results. 

Flora sat down upon a bench beside her husband, and her eye ranged fromgroup to group of those strange faces, with a mechanical, uninterestedgaze. Here a pretty insipid-looking girl sauntered the deck with a bookin her hand, from which she never read; and another, more vivacious, andequally intent on attracting her share of public notice, raved to anelderly gentleman, on whose arm she was leaning, of the beauty andmagnificence of the ocean. 

The young and good-looking of either sex were flirting. The more wilyand experienced coquetting after a graver fashion; while the middle-agedwere gossiping to some congenial spirit on the supposed merits ordemerits of their neighbours. 

Not a few prostrate forms might be seen reclining upon shawls andcloaks, supported by pillows, whose languid, pale faces, and disarrangedtresses, showed that the demon of the waters had been at work, andremorselessly had stricken them down. 

Standing near the seat occupied by the Lyndsays, Flora observed a tall, fashionably-dressed woman, apparently about twenty-eight or thirty yearsof age. She was laughing and chatting in the most lively and familiarmanner with a handsome, middle-aged man, in a military undress. Theperson of the lady was very agreeable, and though neither pretty norelegant, was fascinating and attractive. 

As her male companion constantly addressed her as Mrs. Dalton, we willcall her by her name. When Mrs. Lyndsay first took her seat upon thedeck Mrs. Dalton left off her conversation with Major F——, and regardedthe new arrival with a long, cool, deliberate stare, which would havewon a smile from Flora, had it not been evidently meant to insult andannoy; for, turning to the Major, with a glance of peculiar meaning, accompanied with the least possible elevation of her shoulders, she letslip the word—“_Nobody_!”

“I am sure that _he_ is a gentleman, and, if I mistake not, an officer, and a fine intelligent looking man, ” remarked her companion, in anaside; “and I like the appearance of his wife. ”

“My dear Sir, I tell you that _she is nobody_. Look at that merino gown;what lady would venture on board these fine vessels, where they meetwith so many _fashionable_ people, in such a dress?”

“A very suitable dress, I should say, for a sea voyage. ”

“Pshaw!” muttered Mrs. Dalton, “have done with your prudent Scotch senseof propriety. Who minds spoiling a good dress or two, when theirstanding in society is risked by appearing shabby? I tell you, Major, that she is _nobody_. ”

“Had you not told me that you had passed the greater part of your life, Mrs. Dalton, in a British Colony, I could have sworn to the fact, fromyour last speech, ” said her companion: “you all think so much of dress, that with you it is really the coat which makes the man, and, I suppose, the gown which makes the lady. However, you shall have it your own way. You know how easy it is for you to bring me over to your opinion. ”

“Do you think that a pretty woman?” she said, directing her husband’seyes towards the lady in question. 

“Rather, ” he replied coldly, “but very worldly and sophisticated. ”

“I am glad to hear you say so, ” said Flora, like a true woman; “that isprecisely the opinion I have formed of her. Is that officer herhusband?”

“I should rather think not. Husbands and wives seldom try to attractpublic attention to themselves, as that man and woman are doing. I haveno doubt they are strangers who never met before. ”

“Impossible!”

“Nothing more probable; people who meet on short journeys and voyageslike this, often throw aside the restraints imposed by society, and actand talk in a manner which would be severely censured in circles wherethey are known. Were you never favoured by the autobiography of afellow-traveller in a stage-coach?”

“Yes often, and thought it very odd that any one should reveal so muchof their private history to a stranger. ”

“It is a common occurrence, originating in the vanity of persons wholove to make themselves and their affairs the subject of conversation;and if they can but obtain listeners, never stop to question who orwhat they are. ”

“Ah, I remember getting into a sad scrape, ” said Flora, “whiletravelling from S—— to London in a stage-coach. It was one of theseuncomfortable things which one hates to think of for the rest of a life, and yet so ridiculous that one feels more inclined to laugh over it thanto cry, though I believe (for I was but a girl at the time), I did both. 

“My fellow-passengers were three gentlemen, one, to whom I was wellknown, the others perfect strangers. One of the latter, a verywell-dressed but rather foppish, conceited young man, talked much uponliterary matters, and from his conversation gave you to understand thathe was on the most intimate terms with all the celebrated authors of theday. After giving us a very frank, and by no means just critique uponthe works of Scott and Byron, whom he familiarly called, ‘my friend, SirWalter, ’ ‘my companion, Lord Byron, ’ he suddenly turned to me, and askedme, ‘if I ever read the S. Chronicle?’ This was one of the countypapers, I told him; that I saw it every week. 

“‘If that be the case, ’ said he, ‘will you tell me what you think of theRev. Mr. B. ’s poems, which have from time to time appeared in itscolumns?’

“This reverend gentleman was a man with a very heavy purse and a veryempty head, whose contributions to the county papers were never read butto be laughed at. Not having the slightest personal knowledge of theauthor, I answered innocently enough, ‘Oh, he’s a stupid, conceitedfellow. It is a pity he has not some friend to tell him what a fool hemakes of himself, whenever he appears in print. His poetry is such dulltrash, that I am certain he must pay the Editor of the paper forallowing him to put it in. ’

“Mr. C. Was stuffing his handkerchief into his mouth, to avoid laughingout right; while the poor gentleman (for it was the author himself), drew back with a face alternately red and pale, with suppressedindignation. His feelings must have been dreadful, for, during the restof his journey, he sat and regarded me with an air of such offendeddignity, that I must have appeared to him like some wicked ogress, readyto devour, at one mouthful, him and his literary fame. He never openedhis mouth to speak to any of us after I had made this unfortunateblunder, and I sat upon thorns, until a handsome plain carriage drove upto the coach about a mile from T. , and relieved us of his company. 

“This circumstance made me feel so uncomfortable, that I never venturedupon giving an opinion of the works of any living author to a stranger, without having a previous knowledge of the person of the writer. ”

“He deserved what he got, for his egregious vanity, ” said Lyndsay. “Formy part, I do not pity him at all; and it afforded you a good lesson ofprudence for the future. ”

At this moment a young negro lad, fantastically dressed, and evidentlyvery much in love with himself, strutted past. As he swaggered along thedeck, rolling his jet black eyes from side to side, and showing hiswhite teeth to the spectators, an indolent-looking young man, dressed inthe extreme of fashion, called languidly after him—

“Hollo, Blacky! What colour’s the Devil?”

“White, ” responded the negro, “and sports red whiskers, like you!”

Every one laughed; the dandy shrunk back, utterly confounded; while thenegro snapped his fingers, and crowed with delight. 

“Hector, go down into the ladies’ cabin, and wait there until I call foryou, ” cried Mrs. Dalton, in an angry voice; “I did not bring you here toinsult gentlemen. ”

“De Buckra affront me first!” returned the sable page, as he sullenlywithdrew. 

“That boy grows very pert, ” continued his mistress, turning to Major F. ;“this is the consequence of the ridiculous stir made by the Englishpeople against slavery. The fellow knows that he is free the moment thathe touches the British shores; and he thinks that he can show hisindependence by disobeying my commands, and being insolent to hissuperiors. I hope he will not take it into his head to leave me, for hesaves me all the trouble of taking care of the children. ”

The Major laughed, while Flora pitied the children, and wondered how anymother could confide them to the care of such a nurse. 

The clouds, which had been rising for some time, now gave veryunequivocal notice of an approaching storm. The rain began to fall, andthe decks were quickly cleared of their motley groups. 

CHAPTER XVIII. 

A PEEP INTO THE LADIES’ CABIN. 

In the ladies’ cabin all was helplessness and confusion: the largerportion of the berths were already occupied by invalids in every stageof sea-sickness; the floor and sofas were strewn with bonnets andshawls, and articles of dress were scattered about in all directions. Some of the ladies were stretched upon the carpet; others, in a sittingposture, were supporting their aching heads upon their knees, andappeared perfectly indifferent to all that was passing around them, andonly alive to their own misery. Others there were, who, beginning torecover from the odious malady, were employing their returning facultiesin quizzing, and making remarks in audible whispers, on their prostratecompanions. 

The centre of such a group was a little sharp-faced, dark-eyed, sallow-skinned old maid of forty, whose angular figure was covered withample folds of rich black silk, cut very low in the bust, and exposing aportion of her person, which, in all ladies of her age, is better hid. She was travelling companion to a large, showily-dressed matron offifty, who occupied the best sofa in the cabin, and, although evidentlyconvalescent, commanded the principal attendance of the stewardess, while she graciously received the gratuitous services of all who werewell enough to render her their homage. She was evidently the great ladyof the cabin; and round her couch a knot of gossips had collected, whenFlora, followed by Hannah carrying the baby, entered upon the scene. 

The character of Mrs. Dalton formed the topic of conversation. Thelittle old maid was remorselessly tearing it to tatters. “No woman whovalued her reputation, ” she said, with pious horror in her looks andtone, “would flirt in the disgraceful manner that Mrs. Dalton wasdoing. ”

“There is some excuse for her conduct, ” remarked a plain butinteresting-looking woman, not herself in the early spring of life. “Mrs. Dalton is a West Indian, and has not been brought up with ourideas of refinement and delicacy. ”

“I consider it no excuse, ” cried the other vehemently, glancing up, asthe cabin-door opened to admit Flora and her maid, to be sure that theobject of her animadversions was not within earshot. “Don’t tell me. Sheknows, Miss Leigh, very well what she’s about. Is it no crime, thinkyou, to endeavour to attract the attention of Major F. ? My dear Madam, ”turning to the great lady, who with her head languidly propped by herhand, was eagerly listening to a conversation which so nearly concernedher: “I wonder you can bear so calmly her flirtations with your husband. If it were me now, I should be ready to tear her eyes out. Do speak tothe creature, and remonstrate with her on her scandalous conduct. ”

“Ah, my dear Miss Mann, I am used to these things, ” sighed Mrs. F. “Noconduct of the Major’s can give me the least uneasiness now. Nor do Ithink, that Mrs. Dalton is aware that she is trying to seduce theaffections of a _married_ man. ”

“That she is though, ” exclaimed Miss Mann, triumphantly. “I took care tointerrupt one of their lively conversations, by telling Major F. Thathis wife was ill, and wished to see him. Mrs. Dalton coloured, and movedaway; but the moment my back was turned, she recommenced her attack. Ifshe were a widow, one might make some allowance for her. But a youngmarried woman, with two small children! I have no doubt that she lefther husband for no good. ”

“She was married very young, to a man more than double her own age, ”said Miss Leigh. “The match was made for her by her friends—especiallyby her grandmother, who now resides in Edinburgh, and whom I know verywell; a woman of considerable property, by whom Mrs. Dalton was broughtup. She was always a gay, flighty girl, dreadfully indulged, and usedfrom a child to have her own way. I consider her lot peculiarly hard, in being united, when a mere girl, to a man whom she had scarcely seen adozen times, and whom she did not love. The worst that can be said ofher is, that she is vain and imprudent; but I can never believe that sheis the bad, designing woman you would make her. ”

“Her conduct is very creditable for a clergyman’s wife, ” sneered the oldmaid. “I wonder the rain don’t bring her down into the cabin. But thesociety of ladies would prove very insipid to a person of her peculiartaste. I should like to know what brings her from Jamaica?”

“If it will satisfy your doubts, I can inform you, ” said Miss Leigh, with a quiet smile. “To place her two children with her grandmother, that they may receive an European education. She is a thoughtless being, but hardly deserves your severe censures. ”

The amiable manner in which this lady endeavoured to defend the absent, without wholly excusing her levity, struck Flora very forcibly. Mrs. Dalton’s conduct upon deck had created in her own mind no veryfavourable opinion of her good qualities. Miss Leigh’s remarks tendednot a little to soften her disgust and aversion towards that individual, whose attack upon her she felt was as ill-natured, as it was unjust. Shewas now inclined to let them pass for what they were worth, and todismiss Mrs. Dalton from her thoughts altogether. But Miss Mann was toomuch excited by Miss Leigh’s extenuating remarks, to let the subjectdrop, and returned with fresh vigour to the charge. 

“It is totally beyond my power, ” she cried, “to do justice to her vanityand frivolity. No one ever before accused me of being ill-natured, orcensorious; but that woman is the vainest person I ever saw. Did younotice, my dear Mrs. F. , that she changed her dress three timesyesterday, and twice to-day? She knelt a whole hour before thecheval-glass, arranging her hair, and trying on a variety of expensivehead-dresses, before she could fix on one for the saloon. I should beashamed of being the only lady among so many men. But she is pastblushing—she has a face of brass. ”

“And so plain too, ” murmured Mrs. Major F. 

“You cannot deny that her features are good, ladies, ” again interposedMiss Leigh; “but creoles seldom possess the fine red and white of ourBritish belles. ”

“At night, ” suggested Miss Mann, “her colour is remarkably good: it isnot subject to any variation like ours. The bleak sea air does not dimthe roses on her cheeks; while these young ladies look as blue and ascold as figures carved out of stone. Of course, Miss Leigh will think mevery uncharitable in saying that Mrs. D. Paints; but I know she does. She left her dressing-case open yesterday, and her little boy wasdabbling his fingers in her French carmine and pearl white, and a finemess he made of his mamma’s beautiful complexion. Bless me!” exclaimedthe old maid, suddenly lowering her voice to a whisper, “if there is nother black imp sitting under the table; he will be sure to tell her allthat we have said about her! What a nuisance he is! I do not think it isproper for him, a great boy of sixteen, to be admitted into the ladies’cabin. ”

“Pshaw!” said Mrs. Major F. ; “nobody cares for him—a black. ”

“But, my dear Mrs. F. , though he is a black, the boy has eyes and ears, like the rest of his sex, and my sense of female propriety is shocked byhis presence. But, who are these people?”—glancing at Flora and hermaid—“and why is that woman admitted into the ladies’ cabin?—servantshave no business here. ”

“She is the nurse; that alters the case, ” said Miss Leigh. “The plea ofbeing the children’s attendant brought Master Hector into the cabin. ”

“The boy is black, and has, on that score, as Mrs. Major F. Says, neither rank nor sex, ” continued the waspish Miss Mann, contradictingthe objections she had made to Hector’s company only a few minutesbefore. “I will not submit to this insult, nor occupy the same apartmentwith a servant. ”

“My dear Madam, you strangely forget yourself, ” said Miss Leigh. “Thislady has a very young infant, and cannot do without the aid of hernurse. A decent, tidy young woman is not quite such a nuisance as thenoisy black boy that Mrs. Dalton has entailed upon us. ”

“But, then she is a woman of _fashion_, ” whispered Miss Mann; “and weknow nothing about these people, and if I were to judge by the youngperson’s dress—”

“A very poor criterion, ” interrupted Miss Leigh; “I draw my inferencesfrom a higher source. ” And turning to Flora, she inquired, in a kind, friendly tone, “if she were going all the way to Edinburgh, the age ofthe baby, and how both were affected by the sea. ”

Before Flora could answer these questions, Miss Mann addressed her withgreat asperity of look and manner—

“Perhaps, Madam, you are not aware that it is against the regulations ofthese vessels, to admit servants into the state cabin. ”

“I am sorry, ladies, ” said Flora, rather proudly, “that the presence ofmine should incommode you. I have only just recovered from a dangerousillness, and am unable at present to take the whole charge of the childmyself. I have paid for my servant’s attendance upon me in the cabin, and I am certain that she will conduct herself in a manner not to offendthe prejudices of any one here. ”

“How unpleasant, ” grumbled the old maid, as she turned disdainfully onher heel; “but what else can be expected from under-bred people. ”

“Send away your nurse, ” said Miss Leigh, in a low voice, to Mrs. Lyndsay; “her presence gives, it seems, great offence to certain people, and, if I may judge by her pale looks, she will be of little service toyou; I will help you to take care of your sweet baby. ”

Flora immediately complied with Miss Leigh’s request. Hannah wasdismissed, and, indeed, the poor girl had enough to do to take care ofherself. 

Towards evening the wind rose to a gale, and Flora, who had not sufferedfrom sickness during her two disastrous trips to sea, became soalarmingly ill, that she was unable to attend to the infant, or assistherself. Miss Leigh, like a good Samaritan, sat up with her during thenight, but in the morning she was so much worse, that she earnestlyrequested that her husband might be allowed to see her. 

Her petition was warmly seconded by Miss Leigh, but met with a decidedrefusal from the rest of the lady-passengers. Mrs. Dalton, who took avery prominent part in the matter, sprang from her berth, and, puttingher back against the cabin door, declared, “That no man save the surgeonshould gain, with her consent, an entrance there!”

“Then I hope, Madam, ” said Miss Leigh, who was supporting Flora in herarms, “that you will adhere to your own regulations, and dismiss yourblack boy. ”

“I shall do no such thing; my objection is to men, and not toboys. —Hector, remain where you are!”

“How consistent!” sneered the old maid. 

“The poor lady may die, ” suggested Miss Leigh. 

“Send for the Doctor—there is one on board. ”

“The Doctor, ladies, ” said the stewardess, coming forward, “got hurtlast night by the fall of the sail, during the storm, and is ill in hisbed. ”

“If such is the case, ” continued Miss Leigh, “you cannot, surely, denythe lady the consolation of speaking to her husband?”

“What a noise that squalling child makes!” cried a fat woman, poppingher night-capped head out of an upper berth; “can’t it be removed? Ithinders me from getting a wink of sleep. ”

“Cannot you take charge of it, Stewardess?”

“Oh, La! I’ve too much upon my hands already—what with Mrs. Dalton’schildren and all this sickness!”

“Have a little mercy, ladies, on the sick mother, and I will endeavourto pacify its cries, ” said Miss Leigh. “Poor little thing, it misses hercare, and we are all strange to it. ”

“I insist upon its being removed!” cried the fat woman. “The comfort ofevery lady in the cabin is not to be sacrificed for the sake of thatsqualling brat. If women choose to travel with such young infants, theyshould take a private conveyance. I will complain to the Captain, if thestewardess does not remove it instantly. ”

What a difference there is in women! Some, like ministering angels, strew flowers and scatter blessings along the rugged paths of life;while others, by their malevolence and pride, increase its sorrows anhundred fold. 

The next day continued stormy, and the rain fell in torrents. Theunsteady motion of the ship did not tend to improve the health of theoccupants of the ladies’ cabin. Those who had been well the day before, were now as helpless and miserable as their companions. Miss Leigh aloneseemed to retain her usual composure. Mrs. Dalton could scarcely benamed in this catalogue, as she only slept and dressed in the cabin, therest of her time being devoted to her friends upon deck, but, in spiteof the boisterous winds and heavy sea, she was as gay and as airy asever. 

Her noisy children were confined to the cabin, where they amusedthemselves by running races round the table, and shouting at the top oftheir shrill voices. In all their pranks, they were encouraged andabetted by Hector, who, regardless of the entreaties of the invalids, and the maledictions of the exasperated stewardess, did his very best toincrease the uproar and confusion. Hector did not care for the commandsof any one but his mistress, and she was in the saloon, playing atbilliards with Major F. 

Little Willie Dalton had discovered the baby, and Flora was terrifiedwhenever he approached her berth, which was on a level with the floor ofthe cabin, as that young gentleman, who was at the unmanageable age ofthree years, seemed decidedly bent on mischief. Twice he had crept intoher bed on his hands and knees, and aimed a blow at the head of thesleeping babe with the leg of a broken chair, which he had found beneaththe sofa. 

While the ladies slept, Hector stole from berth to berth, and possessedhimself of all their stores of oranges, lemons, and cayenne lozenges;sharing the spoils with the troublesome, spoilt monkeys, left by theircareful mamma in his keeping. 

Towards evening Mrs. Lyndsay felt greatly recovered from her grievousattack of sea-sickness; and, with the assistance of Miss Leigh, shecontrived to dress herself, and get upon the deck. 

The rain was still falling in large, heavy drops; but the sun wasbravely struggling through the dense masses of black clouds, which hadobscured his rays during the long stormy day, and now cast a watery anduncertain gleam upon the wild scenery, over which Bamborough Castlefrowns in savage sublimity. 

This was the last glance Flora gave to the shores of dear old England. The angry, turbulent ocean, the lowering sky, and falling rain, seemedemblems of her own sad destiny. Her head sunk upon her husband’sshoulder, as he silently clasped her to his breast; and she could onlyanswer his anxious inquiries respecting herself and the child with heavysobs. For his sake—for the sake of the little one, who was nestledclosely to her throbbing heart—she had consented to leave those shoresfor ever. Then why did she repine? Why did that last glance of hernative land fill her heart with such unutterable grief? Visions of thedim future floated before her, prophetic of all the trials and sorrowswhich awaited her in those unknown regions to which they werejourneying. She had obeyed the call of duty, but had not yet tasted thereward. The sacrifice had not been as yet purified and sublimed, bylong-suffering and self-denial, so as to render it an acceptableoffering on so holy a shrine. She looked up to heaven, and tried tobreathe a prayer; but all was still and dark in her bewildered mind. 

The kind voice of her husband at last roused her from the indulgence ofvain regrets. The night was raw and cold; the decks wet and slipperyfrom the increasing rain; and, with an affectionate pressure of thehand that went far to reconcile her to her lot, Lyndsay whispered, “Thisis no place for you, Flora, and my child. Return, dearest, to thecabin. ”

With reluctance Flora obeyed. Beside him she felt neither the cold norwet; and, with the greatest repugnance, she re-entered the ladies’cabin, and, retiring to her berth, enjoyed for several hours a tranquiland refreshing sleep. 

CHAPTER XIX. 

MRS. DALTON. 

It was midnight when Mrs. Lyndsay awoke. A profound stillness reigned inthe cabin; the invalids had forgotten their sufferings in sleep, —all butone female figure, who was seated upon the carpeted floor, just in frontof Flora’s berth, wrapped in a loose dressing-gown, and engaged inreading a letter. Flora instantly recognised in the watcher the tall, graceful figure of Mrs. Dalton. 

Her mind seemed agitated by some painful recollections; and she sighedfrequently, and several tears stole slowly over her cheeks, as shereplaced the paper carefully in her bosom, and for many minutes appearedlost in deep and earnest thought. All her accustomed gaiety was gone;and her fine features wore a sad and regretful expression, far moretouching and interesting than the heartless levity by which they weregenerally distinguished. 

“Is it possible, that that frivolous mind can be touched by grief?”thought Flora. “That that woman can feel?”

Mrs. Dalton, as if she had heard the unuttered query, raised her head, and caught the intense glance with which Mrs. Lyndsay was unconsciouslyregarding her. 

“I thought no one was awake but myself, ” she said; “I am a bad sleeper. If you are the same, we will have a little chat together; I am naturallya sociable animal. Of all company, I find my own the worst, and aboveall things hate to be alone. ”

Surprised at this frank invitation, from a woman who had pronounced her_nobody_, Flora replied, rather coldly, “I fear, Mrs. Dalton, that ourconversation would not suit each other. ”

“That is as much as to say, that you don’t like me; and that youconclude from that circumstance, that I don’t like you?”

“To be candid then, —you are right. ”

“I fancy that you overheard my observations to Major F. ?”

“I did. ”

“Well if you did, I can forgive you for disliking me. When I first sawyou, I thought you a very plain person, and judged by your dress, thatyou held a very inferior rank in society. After listening a few minutesto your conversation with Miss Leigh, who is a highly educated woman, Ifelt convinced that I was wrong; and that you were far superior to mostof the women round me. Of course you thought me a very malicious, vainwoman. ”

Flora smiled, in spite of herself. 

“Oh, you may speak it out. I shan’t like you a bit the less for speakingthe truth. I am a strange, wayward creature, subject at times to themost dreadful depression of spirits; and it is only by affectingexcessive gaiety that I hinder myself from falling into the mosthopeless despondency. ”

“Such a state of mind is not natural to one of your age, and whopossesses so many personal attractions. There must be some cause forthese fits of gloom. ”

“Of course there is. I am not quite the heartless coquet I seem. Myfather was an officer in the army, and commanded a regiment in the WestIndies, where I was born. I was an only child, and very much indulged byboth my parents. I lost them while I was a mere child, and was sent toScotland to be educated by my grandmother. I was an irritable, volatile, spoilt child, and expected that everybody would yield to me, as readilyas my slave attendants had done in Jamaica. In this I was disappointed. My grandmother was a proud, ambitious woman, and a strictdisciplinarian; and it was a constant battle between us who should bemaster. I was no match, however, for the old lady, and I frettedconstantly under her control, longing for any chance that might free mefrom her rule. It was a joyful day for me, when I was sent to finish myeducation at one of the first schools in Edinburgh, which I did notleave until I was sixteen years of age. I found grandmamma several yearsolder, and many degrees more exacting than she was before. She was somuch alarmed lest I should make an unsuitable alliance, that she neversuffered me to go out without I was accompanied by herself, or an oldmaiden aunt, who was more rigid and stiff than even grandmamma herself. 

“At this period of my girlhood, and before I had seen anything of theworld, or could in the least judge for myself, a very wealthy clergyman, who had been a great friend of poor papa’s, called to see me, before hereturned to Jamaica; where he had a fine living, and possessed a nobleproperty. Unfortunately for me, he fell desperately in love with theorphan daughter of his friend, and his suit was vehemently backed bygrandmamma and aunt. He was a handsome, worthy kind man, but old enoughto have been my father. I was so unhappy and restless at home, that Iwas easily persuaded to become his wife; and I, who had never been inlove, thought it was a fine thing to be married, and my own mistress atsixteen. Our union has not been a happy one. I much question if suchunions ever are. He is now an aged man, while I am in the very bloom oflife, and consequently exposed to much temptation. Thank God! I havenever acted criminally, though often severely tried. My home is one ofmany luxuries, but it has no domestic joys. My children are the only tiethat binds me to a man I cannot love; and I have been so long used todrown my disappointment and regret in a whirl of dissipation, that it isonly in scenes of gaiety that I forget my grief. 

“My own sex speak slightly of me; but I do not deserve their severecensures. My fellow-passengers, I heard from Hector, made a thousandmalicious remarks about me yesterday, and that you and Miss Leigh werethe only ladies who took my part. ”

“My conduct, ” replied Flora, “was perfectly negative. I said nothingeither in praise or blame. I may have injured you by thinking hardly ofyou. ”

“I thank you for your forbearance, in keeping your thoughts to yourself, for I did not deserve that from you. If I did flirt a little with MajorF. , it was done more to provoke the spleen of that ill-natured old maid, who acts the part of Cerberus for his proud, pompous wife, than for anywish to attract his attention. ”

“It is better, ” said Flora, her heart softening towards her companion, “to avoid all appearance of evil. Superficial observers only judge byoutward appearance, and your conduct must have appeared strange to ajealous woman. ”

“She was jealous of me then?” cried the volatile Mrs. Dalton, clappingher hands in an ecstasy of delight. “Oh, I am so glad that it annoyedher. ”

Flora could not help laughing at the vivacity with which she turned herwords to make them subservient to her own vanity. But when she describedthe consternation felt by Miss Mann, on discovering Hector under thetable, her eccentric companion laughed until the tears ran down hercheeks. 

The introduction of Hector insensibly turned the conversation upon thestate of the slaves in the West Indies. The excitement of the slavequestion was just then at its height; but the bill for theiremancipation had not yet passed the Houses of Parliament. Upon Floraexpressing her abhorrence of the whole system, Mrs. Dalton proceeded todefend it with no little warmth. 

“Ah, I perceive that you know nothing about it. You are infected withthe bigotry and prejudices of the Anti-slavery advocates. Negroes are aninferior race; they were made to work for civilized men, in climateswhere labour would be death to those of a different complexion. ”

“This is reducing the African to a mere beast of burthen—a machine inthe form of man. The just God never made a race of beings purposely todrag out a painful existence in perpetual toil and degradation. ”

“They are better off than your peasants at home, ” continued Mrs. Dalton, indignantly;—“better fed, and taken care of. As to the idle tales theytell you about flogging, starvation, and killing slaves, they arefearful exaggerations, not worthy of credit. Do you think a farmer wouldkill a horse, that he knew was worth a hundred pounds, out of revengefor his having done some trifling injury to his harness? A planter wouldnot disable a valuable slave, if by so doing he injured himself. Butyour slave adorers will not listen to reason and common sense. I havebeen the owner of many slaves; but I never ill-used one of them in mylife. ”

“Hector is an example of over-indulgence, ” said Flora. “But still he isonly a pet animal in your estimation. Tell me truly, Mrs. Dalton, do youbelieve that a negro has a soul to be saved?”

“I think it doubtful!”

“And you the wife of a Christian minister?” said Flora, reproachfully. 

“If they had immortal souls and reasoning minds, we should not bepermitted to hold them as slaves. Their degradation proves theirinferiority. ”

“It only proves the brutalizing effects of your immoral system, ” saidFlora, waxing warm. “I taught a black man from the island of St. Vincentto read the Bible fluently in ten weeks. Was that a proof of mentalincapacity? I never met with an uneducated white man who learned to readso rapidly, or who pursued his studies with the ardour of thisdespised, soulless black. His motive for this exertion was a noble one, which I believe cost him his life—the hope of carrying the glad tidingsof salvation to his benighted countrymen, which he considered the bestmeans of improving their condition, and rendering less burdensome theiroppressive yoke. ”

“This was all very well in theory; but it will never do in practice. Ifthe British Government, urged on by a set of fanatics, who, in realityare more anxious to bring themselves into notice, than to emancipate theslaves, madly persist in adopting their ridiculous project, it willinvolve the West Indies in ruin. ”

“It were better that the whole group of islands were sunk in the depthsof the sea, ” said Flora, vehemently, “than continue to present to theworld a system of injustice and cruelty, which is a disgrace to aChristian community—a spectacle of infamy to the civilized world. And donot think that the wise and good men who are engaged heart and hand inthis holy cause, will cease their exertions until their great object isaccomplished, and slavery is banished from the earth. ”

Mrs. Dalton stared at Flora in amazement. She could not in the leastcomprehend her enthusiasm. “Who cares for a slave?” she said, contemptuously. “You must live among them, and be conversant with theirhabits before you can understand their inferiority. One would thinkthat you belonged to the Anti-Slavery Society to hear the warmth withwhich you argue the case. Do you belong to that odious society? for Iunderstand that many pious women make themselves vastly busy in publiclydiscussing the _black_ question. ”

“I have many dear friends who are among its staunch supporters, both menand women; whose motives are purely benevolent; who have nothing to gainby the freedom of the slaves, beyond the satisfaction of endeavouring toforward a good work, which if it succeeds, (and we pray God that itmay, ) will restore a large portion of the human family to their rightsas immortal and rational creatures. ”

“Mere cant—the vanity of making a noise in the world. One of the refinedhypocrisies of the present age. By-the-bye, my dear Madam, have you reada tract published lately by this disinterested society, called theHistory of Mary P. ? It is set forth to be an authentic narrative, whileI know enough of the West Indies, to pronounce it a tissue of falsehoodsfrom beginning to end. ”

“Did you know Mary P. ?”

“I wonder who does. It is an imaginary tale got up for party purposes. ”

“You are mistaken, ” said Flora quietly. “That narrative is strictlytrue. I was staying the winter before last, with her mistress in London, and I wrote it myself from the woman’s own lips. ”

“You!” and Mrs. Dalton started from the ground as though she had beenbitten by a serpent—“and I have been talking all this time to the authorof Mary P. From this moment, Madam, we must regard ourselves asstrangers. No West Indian could for a moment tolerate the writer of thatodious pamphlet. ”

Mrs. Dalton retired to her berth, which was in the state cabin; andFlora lay awake for several hours, pondering over their conversation, until the morning broke, and the steamer cast anchor off Newhaven. 

CHAPTER XX. 

EDINBURGH. 

The storm had passed away during the night; and at day-break, Florahurried upon deck, to catch the first glance of—

 “The glorious land of flood and fell, The noble north countrie. ”

The sun was still below the horizon, and a thick mist hung over thewaters, and hid the city from her view. Oh, for the rising of that whitecurtain! how Flora tried to peer through its vapoury folds, to

 “Hail old Scotia’s darling seat, ”

the beautiful abode of brave, intelligent, true-hearted men, and fairgood women. Glorious Edinburgh! who ever beheld you for the first timewith indifference, and felt not his eyes brighten, and his heart thrillwith a proud ecstasy, the mingling of his spirit with a scene, which inromantic sublimity, has not its equal in the wide world—

 “Who would not dare To fight for such a land!”

exclaims the patriotic wizard of the North. Ay, and to die for it, ifneed be, as every true-hearted Scot would die, rather than see one staincast upon the national glory of his noble country. The character of apeople is greatly influenced by the local features of the land to whichit belongs; and the inhabitants of mountainous districts have everevaded most effectually the encroachments of foreign invaders. The Scotmay, perhaps, derive from his romantic country, much of that poetictemperament, that stern, uncompromising love of independence, which hasplaced him in the first rank as a man. 

The sun at length rose; the fog rolled its grey masses upwards, and theglorious old castle emerged from between the parting clouds, like somefabled palace of the gods, its antique towers glittering like gold inthe sun. 

“Oh, how beautiful!” exclaimed Flora, her eye kindling, and her cheekflushing with delight. 

“The situation of Quebec is almost as fine, ” said Captain Forbes, whohad been watching with pleasure the effect which the first sight of hisnative city produced upon her countenance. “It will lose little bycomparison. ”

“Indeed, ” cried Flora, eagerly turning to the speaker, “I had formed noidea of anything in Canada being at all equal to this. ”

“You have been there, Captain?” said Lyndsay. 

“Yes, many times; and always with increased pleasure. Quebec combinesevery object which is requisite to make a scene truly magnificent—woods, mountains, rivers, cataracts; and all on the most stupendous scale. Alover of nature cannot fail to be delighted with the rock-defendedfortress of British North America. ”

“You have made me quite happy, Captain Forbes, ” said Flora; “I havecontemplated a residence in Canada with feelings of such antipathy, thatyour description of Quebec almost reconciles me to my lot. I can neverhate a country which abounds in natural beauty. ”

 * * * * *

Boats were now constantly plying to and from the shore, conveyingpassengers and their luggage from the ship to the pier. The Captain, whohad recognised a countryman in Lyndsay, insisted on the voyagers takingbreakfast with him before they left the vessel. Mrs. Lyndsay acceptedthe offer with such hearty good-will, that the Captain laughed andrubbed his hands in the excess of hospitable satisfaction, as he calledto his steward to place a small table under an awning upon the deck, andserve the breakfast there. 

“You will enjoy it much more in the fresh air, Mrs. Lyndsay, ” he said, “after your severe illness, than in the close air. ”

Flora was delighted with the arrangement, and set the Captain down as aman of taste, as by this means he had provided for her a doublefeast—the beautiful scenery which on every side met her gaze, and anexcellent breakfast, served in the balmy morning air. 

The rugged grace with which the gallant tar presided at what might betermed his own private table, infused a cheerful spirit into thosearound him, and never was a meal more heartily enjoyed by our emigrants. James Hawke, who had been confined during the whole voyage to his berth, now rejoined his friends, and ate of the savoury things before him insuch downright earnest, that the Captain declared that it was a pleasureto watch the lad handle his knife and fork. 

“When a fellow has been starving for eight and forty hours, it is not atrifle that can satisfy his hunger, ” said Jim, making a vigorousonslaught upon a leg of Scotch mutton. “Oh! I never was so hungry in mylife!”

“Not even during those two disastrous days last week, which we spentstarving at sea, ” said Flora. 

“Ah, don’t name them, ” said the boy, with an air of intense disgust. “Those days were attended with such _qualms_ of conscience that I havebanished them from the log of life altogether. Oh, those dreadful days!”

“Why, Jim, you make a worse sailor than I expected, ” said Flora; “howshall we get you alive to Canada?”

“Oh, never fear, ” said the lad, gaily; “I have cast all those horriblereminiscences into the sea. I was very ill, but ’tis all over now, andI feel as light as a feather; you will see that I shall be quite myselfagain, directly we lose sight of the British shores. ”

On returning to the ladies’ cabin, to point out her luggage to thesteward of the boat, Flora found that important functionary, pacing toand fro the now empty scene of all her trouble in high disdain. She hadpaid very little attention to Mrs. Lyndsay during the voyage. She hadwaited with the most obsequious politeness on Mrs. Major F. And Mrs. Dalton, because she fancied they were rich people, who would amplyreward her for her services. They had given her all the trouble theypossibly could, while she had received few commands from Flora, andthose few she had neglected to perform. Still, as Flora well knew thatthe paid salary of these people is small, and that they mainly dependupon the trifles bestowed upon them by passengers, she slippedhalf-a-crown into her hand, and begged her to see that the trunks shehad pointed out were carried upon deck. 

The woman stared at her, and dropped a low curtsey. 

“La, Mem, you are one of the very few of our passengers who has beenkind enough to remember the stewardess. It’s too bad—indeed it is. Andall the trouble that that Mrs. Dalton gave with her spoilt children, andnasty black vagabond. And would you believe me, she went off withoutbestowing on me a single penny! And worse than that, I heard her tellthe big fat woman, that never rose up in her berth, but to drinkbrandy-and-water, ‘That it was a bad fashion the Hinglish had of payingservants, and the sooner it was got rid of the better. ’

“‘I perfectly hagrees with you, ’ said the fat woman; and so she gavenothing;—no—not even thanks. Mrs. Major F—— pretended not to see me, though I am sure I’m no midge; and I stood in the doorway on purpose togive her a hint; but the hideous little old maid told me to get out ofthe way, as she wanted to go upon deck to speak to the Major. Oh, themeanness of these would-be fine ladies! But if ever they come toScotland in this boat again—won’t I pay them off!”

Flora enjoyed these unsolicited confessions of a disappointedstewardess; and she was forced to turn away her head for fear ofbetraying a wicked inclination to laugh, which if indulged in at thatmoment would, I have no doubt, have afforded her great satisfaction anddelight. As it was, she made no comment upon the meanness of herfellow-passengers, nor consoled the excited stewardess by complaining oftheir unlady-like conduct to herself. —What they were in their rank oflife, the stewardess was in hers. They were congenial souls—allbelonging to the same great family, and Flora was not a little amused bythe striking points of resemblance. 

Bidding adieu to the Captain of the steamer, the Lyndsays and theirluggage were safely landed on the chain-pier at Newhaven; from thencethey proceeded to Leith, to the house of a respectable woman, the widowof a surgeon, who resided near the Leith bank, and only a few minutes’walk from the wharf. 

CHAPTER XXI. 

MRS. WADDEL. 

Great was the surprise of Flora, when, instead of entering the house bya front door, they walked up an interminable flight of stone stairs, every landing comprising a distinct dwelling, or flat (as it istechnically termed), with the names of the proprietors marked on thedoors. At last they reached the flat occupied by good Mistress Waddel, situated at the very top of this stony region. Mrs. Waddel was at thedoor ready to receive them. She showed them into a comfortablesitting-room with windows fronting the street, where a bright fire wasblazing in a very old-fashioned grate. She welcomed her new lodgers witha torrent of kindly words, pronounced in the broadest Scotch dialect, only half understood by the English portion of her audience. 

A large portly personage was Mrs. Waddel, —ugly, amiable, and by no meansparticular in her dress; which consisted of a woollen plaid, very muchfaded, and both ragged and dirty. Her large mutch with its broad frillsformed a sort of glory round her head, setting off to no advantage herpock-marked, flabby face, wide mouth and yellow projecting teeth. Shehad a comical, good-natured obliquity of vision in her prominentlight-grey eyes, which were very red about the rims; and Flora thought, as she read with an inquiring eye the countenance of their landlady, that without being positively disgusting, she was the most ordinary, uncouth woman she ever beheld. 

Mrs. Waddel was eloquent in the praise of her apartments, which she saidhad been occupied by my Leddy W. When his Majesty George the Fourth, Godbless his saucy face, landed at Leith, on his visit to Scotland. Herlodgings, it seemed, had acquired quite an aristocratic character sincethe above-named circumstance; and not a day passed, but the good womanenumerated all the particulars of that memorable visit. But her ownautobiography was the stock theme with the good landlady. The mostminute particulars of her private history she daily divulged, to theunspeakable delight of the mischievous laughter-loving James Hawke, who, because he saw that it annoyed Mrs. Lyndsay, was sure to lead theconversation slily to some circumstance which never failed to place thehonest-hearted Scotchwoman on her high-horse: and then she wouldtalk, —ye gods!—how she would talk—and splutter away in her broadprovincial dialect, until the wicked boy was convulsed with laughter. 

“Ay, Mister Jeames, ” she would say, “ye will a’ be maken’ yer fun o’ a’puir auld bodie, but ’tis na’ cannie o’ ye. ”

“Making fun of _you_, Mrs. Waddel, ” said he, with a sly glance at Flora, “how can you take such an odd notion into your head! It is so good ofyou to tell me all about your courtship: it’s giving me a hint of howI’m to go about it when I’m a man. I am sure you were a very pretty, smart girl in your young days”—with another quizzical glance at Flora. 

The old lady drew herself up, and smiled approvingly upon her black-eyedtormentor. 

“Na, na, Mister Jeames, my gude man that’s dead an’ gane said to me, theverra day that he made me his ain—‘Katie, ye are nae bonnie, but ye a’gude, which is a’ hantle better. ’”

“No doubt he was right, Mrs. Waddel; but I really think he was veryungallant to say so on his wedding-day, and did not do you halfjustice. ”

“Weel, weel, ” said the good dame, “every ain to his taste. He was notow’r gifted that way himsel; but we are nane sensible o’ our aindefects. ”

The great attraction in the small, windowless closet in which Jamesslept, was an enormous calabash, which her son, the idol of Mrs. Waddel’s heart, had brought home with him from the South Seas. Over thiscalabash, the simple-hearted mother daily rehearsed all the wonderfuladventures she had gathered from that individual, during his shortvisits home; and as she possessed a surprisingly retentive memory, hermaternal reminiscences would have filled volumes, —to all of which Jameslistened with the most earnest attention, not on account of theadventures, for they were commonplace enough, but for the mere pleasureof hearing Mrs. Waddel talk broad Scotch, from which he seemed to derivethe most ludicrous enjoyment. Mrs. Waddel had two daughters, to whomnature had been less bountiful than even to herself. Tall, awkward, shapeless dawdles, whose unlovely youth was more repulsive than themother’s full-blown, homely age, —with them the old lady’s innocentobliquity of vision had degenerated into a downright squint, and theredness round the rims of their large, fishy-looking, light eyes, gavethe idea of perpetual weeping, —a pair of Niobes, versus the beauty, whose swollen orbs were always dissolved in tears. They crept slip-shodabout the house, their morning wrappers fitting so easily their slovenlyfigures, that you expected to see them suddenly fall to the ground, andthe young ladies walk on in native simplicity. 

“My daughters are like mysel—na’ bonnie, ” said Mrs. Waddel. “They dinna’tak’ wi’ the men folk, wha look mair to comeliness than gudenessnow-a-days in a wife. A’ weel, every dog maun ha’ his day, an’ they mayget husbands yet. 

“I weel remember, when Noncy was a bairn, she was the maist ugsome weething I ever clappit an e’e upon. My Leddy W. Lodged in this verra room, in the which we are no’ sittin’. She had a daughter nearly a womangrown, an’ I was in my sma’ back parlour washin’ an’ dressin’ the bairn. In runs my Leddy Grace, an’ she stood an’ lookit an’ lookit a lang timeat the naked bairn in my lap: at last she clappit her hands an’ shecalled oot to her mither—‘Mamma! Mamma! for gudeness sake, come here, an’ look at this ugly, blear-eyed, bandy-legget child!—I never saw sican object in a’ my life!’

“It made my heart sair to hear her despise a creture made in God’s imagein that way, an’ I bursted into tears, an’ said—’My leddy, yer a badChristian to spier in that way o’ my puir bairn, an’ that in the hearin’of its ain mither. May God forgive you! but you ha’ a hard heart. ’ Shewas verra angry at my reproof, but my Leddy W. Just then came in, an’she said, with one of her ain gracious smiles—‘For shame! Grace; thebairn’s weel enough. Let us hope she maun prove a’ blessin’ to herparents. The straightest tree does na always bear the finest fruit. ’

“I ha’ met wi’ mony crosses and sair trials in my day; but few o’ themmade me shed bitterer tears than that proud, handsom’ young leddy’sspeech on the deformity o’ my puir bairn. ”

Flora stood reproved in her own eyes, for she knew she had regarded thepoor ugly girls with feelings of repugnance, on account of theirpersonal defects. Even Jim, careless and reckless though he was, possessed an excellent heart, and he looked grave, and turned to thewindow, and tried to hum a tune, to get rid of an unpleasant sensationabout his throat, which Mrs. Waddel’s artless words had suddenlyproduced. 

“Hang me!” he muttered half aloud, “if I ever laugh at the poor girlsagain!”

Mrs. Waddel had in common with most of her sex, a great predilection forgoing to auctions; and scarcely a day passed without her making somewonderful bargains. For a mere trifle she had bought a ’gude pot, onlyupon inspection it turned out to be miserably leaky. A nice palliasse, which on more intimate acquaintance proved alive with gentry with whomthe most republican body would not wish to be on intimate terms. Jim wasalways joking the old lady upon her bargains, greatly to the edificationof Betty Fraser, a black-eyed Highland girl, who was Mistress Waddel’sprime minister in the culinary department. 

“Weel, Mister Jeames, jist ha’ yer laugh oot, but when ye get a glint o’the bonnie table I bought this mornin’ for three an’ saxpence, ye’ll benoo’ makin’ game o’ me ony mair, I’m thinkin’. Betty, ye maun jist stepow’r the curb-stane to the broker’s, an’ bring hame the table. ”

Away sped the nimble-footed Betty, and we soon heard the clattering ofthe table, as the leaves flapped to and fro as she lugged it up thepublic stairs. 

“Now for the great bargain!” exclaimed the saucy Jim; “I think, Mrs. Waddel, I’ll buy it of you, as my venture to Canada. ”

“Did ye ever!” exclaimed the old lady, her eyes brightening as Bettydragged in the last bargain, and placed it triumphantly before hermistress. Like the Marquis of Anglesea, it had been in the wars, andwith a terrible clatter, the incomparable table fell prostrate to thefloor. Betty opened her great black eyes with a glance of blankastonishment, and raising her hands with a tragic air which wasperfectly irresistible, exclaimed, “Mercy me, but it wants a fut!”

“A what?” screamed Jim, as he sank beside the fallen table and rolledupon the ground in a fit of irrepressible merriment; “Do, for Heaven’ssake, tell me the English for a fut. Oh dear, I shall die! Why do youmake such funny purchases, Mrs. Waddel, and suffer Betty to show themoff in such a funny way? You will be the death of me, indeed you will;and then, what will my Mammy say?”

To add to this ridiculous scene, Mrs. Waddel’s grey parrot, who was notthe least important personage in her establishment, having beenpresented to her by her sailor son, fraternised with the prostrate lad, and echoed his laughter in the most outrageous manner. 

“Whist, Poll! Hould yer clatter. It’s no laughing matter to lose threean’ saxpence in buying the like o’ that. ”

Mrs. Waddel did not attend another auction during the month the Lyndsaysoccupied her lodgings. With regard to Betty Fraser, Jim picked up a pageout of her history, which greatly amused Flora Lyndsay, who delighted inthe study of human character. We will give it here. 

Betty Fraser’s first mistress was a Highland lady, who had married andsettled in Edinburgh. On her first confinement, she could fancy no onebut a Highland girl to take care of the babe, when the regular nurse wasemployed about her own person. She therefore wrote to her mother to sendher by the first vessel which sailed for Edinburgh, a good, simple-hearted girl, whom she could occasionally trust with the baby. Betty, who was a tenant’s daughter, and a humble scion of the greatfamily tree, duly arrived by the next ship. 

She was a hearty, healthy, rosy girl of fourteen, as rough as her nativewilds, with a mind so free from guile that she gave a literalinterpretation to everything she saw and heard. 

In Canada Betty would have been considered very green. In Scotland shewas regarded as a truthful, simple-hearted girl. A few weeks after thebaby was born, some ladies called to see Mrs. ——. The weather was verywarm, and one of them requested the neat black-eyed girl in waiting tofetch her a glass of water. Betty obeyed with a smiling face; but oh, horror of horrors, she brought the clear crystal to the lady guest inher red fist. 

The lady smiled, drank the water, and returned the tumbler to theblack-eyed Hebe, who received it with a profound curtsy. 

When the visitors were gone, Mrs. ——, who was very fond of her youngclanswoman, called her to her side, and said, “Betty, let me never seeyou bring anything into my room in your bare hands. Always put what youare asked for on to a waiter or an ashat. ”

The girl promised obedience. 

The very next day some strange ladies called; and after congratulatingMrs. —— on her speedy recovery, they expressed an earnest wish to seethe “_dear little baby_. ”

Mrs. —— rang the bell. Betty appeared. “Is the baby awake?”

“Yes, my leddy. ”

“Just bring him in to show these ladies. ”

Betty darted into the nursery, only too proud of the mission, andtelling nurse to “mak’ the young laird brau, ” she rushed to the kitchen, and demanded of the cook a “muckle big ashat. ”

“What do you want with the dish?” said the English cook. 

“That’s my ain business, ” quoth Betty, taking the enormous china platterfrom the cook’s hand, and running back to the nursery. “Here, MistressNorman, here is ain big enough to hand him in, at ony rate. Pray lay hiswee duds smooth, an’ I’ll tak’ him in, for I hear the bell. ”

“Are ye duff, lass? Wud ye put the bairn on the ashat?”

“Ay, mistress tauld me to bring what she asked me for on an ashat. Sureye wud no ha’ me disobey her?”

“Na, na, ” said the nurse, laughing, and suspecting some odd mistake. “Yesal ha’ it yer ain way. ”

And she carefully laid the noble babe upon the dish, and went before toopen the door that led to Mrs. ——’s chamber. 

Betty entered as briskly as her unwieldy burden would permit, and withglowing cheeks, and eyes glistening with honest delight, presented herhuman offering in the huge dish to the oldest female visitor in theroom. 

With a scream of surprise, followed by a perfect hurricane of laughter, the venerable dame received the precious gift from Betty’s hand, andholding it towards the astonished mother, exclaimed, “Truly, my dearfriend, this is a dish fit to set before a king. Our beloved sovereignwould have no objection of seeing a dish so filled with royal fruit, placed at the head of his own table. ”

The laugh became general; and poor Betty comprehending the blunder shehad committed, not only fled from the scene, but dreading the jokes ofher fellow-servants, fled from the house. 

CHAPTER XXII. 

CLIMBING THE MOUNTAINS. 

The Lyndsays, to their infinite mortification and disappointment, foundupon their arrival at Leith, that the _Chieftain_, in which vessel theirplaces had been taken for Canada, had sailed only two days before. Tomake bad worse, Mrs. Waddel confidently affirmed, that it was the verylast vessel which would sail that season. 

Lyndsay, who never yielded to despondency, took these contrary eventsvery philosophically, and lost no time in making inquiries among theship-owners, to ascertain whether Mrs. Waddel was right. 

After several days of anxious and almost hopeless search, he was at lastinformed that the _Flora_, Captain Ayre, was to leave for Canada in afortnight. The name seemed propitious, and that very afternoon he walkeddown with his wife to inspect the vessel. 

The _Flora_ was a small brig, very old, very dirty, and with wretchedaccommodations. The captain was a brutal-looking person, blind of oneeye, and very lame. Every third word he uttered was an oath; and insteadof answering Mr. Lyndsay’s inquiries, he was engaged in a blasphemousdialogue with his two sons, who were his first and second mates. Theyoung men seemed worthy of their parentage; their whole conversationbeing interloaded with frightful imprecations on their own limbs andsouls, and the limbs and souls of others. 

They had a very large number of steerage passengers engaged, for thevery small size of the vessel, and these emigrants were of the verylowest description. 

“Don’t let us go in this horrible vessel, ” whispered Flora to herhusband. “What a captain! what a crew! we shall be miserable, if we formany part of her live cargo!”

“I fear, my dear girl, there is no alternative. We may, perhaps, hear ofanother before she sails. I won’t engage places in her until the lastmoment. ”

The dread of going in the _Flora_ took a hold of the mind of hernamesake; and she begged Jim to be on the constant look-out for anothervessel. 

During their stay at Leith, Lyndsay was busily employed in writing aconcluding chapter to his work on the Cape; and Flora amused herself bytaking long walks, accompanied by James, the maid, and the baby, inorder to explore all the beauties of Edinburgh. The lad, who was veryclever, and possessed a wonderful faculty of remembering places and offinding his way among difficulties, always acted as guide on theseoccasions. Before he had been a week at Leith, he knew every street inEdinburgh; had twice or thrice climbed the heights of Arthur’s Seat, andvisited every nook in the old castle. There was not a ship in theharbour of Leith, but he not only knew her name and the name of hercaptain, but he had made himself acquainted with some of her crew, andcould tell her freight and tonnage, her age and capabilities, the portfrom which she last sailed and the port to which she was then bound, aswell as any sailor on the wharf. It was really extraordinary to listenof an evening to the lad’s adventures, and all the mass of informationhe had acquired during his long rambles through the day. 

Flora was always in an agony lest James should be lost, or meet withsome mishap during his exploring expeditions; but Mistress Waddelcomforted her with the assurance, “That a cat, throw her which way youwu’d, lighted a’ upon her feet. That nought was never tent—an’ they thatwar’ born to be hanget wu’d never be drowned. ”

So, one fine afternoon in June, Flora took it into her head, that shewould climb to the top of the mountain, the sight of which from herchamber window she was never tired of contemplating. She asked herhusband to go with her. She begged, she entreated, she coaxed; but hewas just writing the last pages of his long task, and he told her, thatif she would only wait until the next day, he would go with pleasure. 

But with Flora, it was this day or none. She had set her whole heart andsoul upon going up to the top of the mountain, and to the top of themountain she determined to go. This resolution was formed, in directopposition to her husband’s wishes; and with a perfect knowledge of thetale of the dog Ball, which had been one of her father’s stock stories, the catastrophe of which she had known from a child. Lyndsay did nottell her positively she should not go without him; and unable to controlher impatience, she gave him the slip, and set off with Jim, who wasonly too eager for the frolic, on her mountain climbing expedition. 

Flora was a native of a rich pastoral country; very beautiful in runningbrooks, smooth meadows, and majestic parks; where the fat sleek cattleso celebrated in the London markets, graze knee-deep in luxuriantpastures, and the fallow deer browse and gambol beneath the shadow ofmajestic oaks through the long bright summer days. She had never seen amountain before her visit to the North, in her life; had never risenhigher in the world than to the top of Shooter’s Hill; and when theyarrived at the foot of this grand upheaving of nature, she began tothink the task more formidable than she had imagined at a distance. Heryoung conductor, agile as a kid, bounded up the steep acclivity with asmuch ease as if he was running over a bowling-green. 

“Not so fast, Jim!” cried Flora, pausing to draw breath. “I cannot climblike you. ”

Jim was already beyond hearing, and was lying on the ground peering overa projecting crag at least two hundred feet above her head, and impishlylaughing at the slow progress she made. 

“Now Jim! that’s cruel of you, to desert me in my hour of need, ” saidFlora, shaking her hand at the young mad-cap. “Lyndsay was right afterall. I had better have waited till to-morrow. ”

Meanwhile, the path that wound round the mountain towards the summitbecame narrower and narrower, and the ascent more steep and difficult. Flora sat down upon a stone amid the ruins of the chapel to rest, and toenjoy the magnificent prospect. The contemplation of this sublimepanorama for a while absorbed every other feeling. She was only alive toa keen sense of the beautiful; and while her eye rested on the loftyranges of mountains to the north and south, or upon the broad bosom ofthe silver Forth, she no longer wondered at the enthusiastic admirationexpressed by the bards of Scotland for their romantic land. 

While absorbed in thought, and contrasting the present with the past, alovely boy of four years of age, in kilt and hose, his golden curlsflying in the wind, ran at full speed up the steep side of the hill; apanting woman, without bonnet or shawl, following hard upon his track, shaking her fist at him, and vociferating her commands (doubtless forhim to return) in Gaelic, fled by. 

On ran the laughing child, the mother after him; but as well might agiant pursue a fairy. 

Flora followed the path they had taken, and was beginning to enjoy thekeen bracing air of the hills, when she happened to cast her eyes to thefar-off meadows beneath. Her head grew suddenly giddy, and she could notdivest herself of the idea, that one false step would send her to theplains below. Here was a most ridiculous and unromantic position: sheneither dared to advance nor retreat; and she stood grasping a ledge ofthe rocky wall in an agony of cowardice and irresolution. At thiscritical moment, the mother of the run-away child returned panting fromthe higher ledge of the mountain, and, perceiving Flora pale andtrembling, very kindly stopped and asked what ailed her. 

Flora could not help laughing while she confessed her fears, lest sheshould fall from the narrow footpath on which she stood. The woman, though evidently highly amused at her distress, had too much nativekindliness of heart, which is the mother of genuine politeness, to yieldto the merriment which hovered about her lips. 

“Ye are na accustomed to the hills, ” she said, in her northern dialect, “or ye wa’d na dread a hillock like this. Ye suld ha’ been born whar Iwa’ born, to ken a mountain fra’ a mole-hill. There is my bairn, noo, Icanna’ keep him fra’ the mountain. He will gang awa’ to the tap, an’only laughs at me when I spier to him to come doon. It’s a’ because heis sae weel begotten—an’ all his forbears war reared amang the hills. ”

The good woman sat down upon a piece of the loose rock, and commenced along history of herself, of her husband, and of the great clan ofMacdonald (to which they belonged), which at last ended in thediscovery, that her aristocratic spouse was a Corporal in the Highlandregiment then stationed in Edinburgh, and that Flora, his wife, washedfor the officers in the said regiment—that the little Donald, with hiswild-goat propensities, was their only child, and so attached to thehills, that she could not keep him confined to the meadows below! Themoment her eye was off him, his great delight was to lead her a dance upthe mountain, which, as she never succeeded in catching him, was quitelabour in vain. 

All this, and more, the good-natured woman communicated in her frank, desultory manner, as she led Flora down the steep, narrow path which ledto the meadows below. Her kindness did not end here, for she walked someway up the road to put Mrs. Lyndsay in the right track to regain herlodgings, for Flora, trusting to the pilotage of Jim, was perfectlyignorant of the location. 

This Highland Samaritan indignantly refused the piece of silver Floraproffered in return for her services. “Hout, leddy! keep the siller! Iwudna’ tak’ aught fra’ ye o’ the Sabbath-day for a trifling act o’courtesy—na, na, I come of too gude bluid for that!”

There was a noble simplicity about the honest-hearted woman, which wasnot lost upon Flora. 

“If I were not English, ” thought Flora, “I should like to be Scotch. ”

She looked rather crest-fallen, as she presented herself before herScotch husband, who laughed heartily over her misadventure, and did notcease to tease her about her expedition to the mountain, as long as theyremained in its vicinity. 

This did not deter her from taking a long stroll on the sands “o’Leith, ” the next afternoon, with James, who delighted in these Quixotishrambles; and was always on the alert, to join in any scheme whichpromised an adventure. It was a lovely afternoon. The sun glittered onthe distant waters, which girdled the golden sands with a zone of blueand silver. The air was fresh and elastic, and diffused a spirit of lifeand joyousness around. Flora, as she followed the footsteps of her youngagile conductor, felt like a child again; and began to collect shellsand sea-weeds, with as much zest as she had done along her native coast, in those far-off happy days, which at times returned to her memory likesome distinct, but distant dream. 

For hours they wandered hither and thither, lulled by the sound of thewaters, and amused by their child-like employment; until Flora remarked, that her footprints filled with water at each step, and the full deeproaring of the sea gave notice of the return of the tide. Fortunatelythey were not very far from the land; and oh, what a race they had togain the “Peir o’ Leith, ” before they were overtaken by the waves. Howthankful they felt that they were safe, as the billows chased madlypast, over the very ground, which a few minutes before, they had sofearlessly trod. 

“This is rather worse than the mountain, mamma Flora, ” (a favourite namewith James for his friend Mrs. Lyndsay, ) “and might have been fatal tous both. I think Mr. Lyndsay would scold this time, if he knew ourdanger. ”

“We won’t quarrel on the score of prudence. But what is this?” saidFlora; and she stepped up to a blank wall, on their homeward path, andread aloud the following advertisement:—

 “To sail on the first of July, viâ Quebec and Montreal; the fast sailing brig _Anne_, Captain Williams. For particulars, inquire at the office of P. Gregg, Bank Street, Leith. 

 “N. B. The _Anne_ is the last ship which leaves this port, for Canada, during the season. ”

“Hurra!” cried the volatile Jim, flinging his cap into the air; “a figfor Captain Ayre and the _Flora_. I’d lay sixpence if I had it, that weshall sail in the _Anne_. ”

“Let us go, James, and look at the vessel, ” cried Flora, clapping herhands with delight. “Oh, if it had not been for our fright on the sands, we should not have seen this. ”

Flora hastened home to inform her husband of the important discoverythey had made; and before half an hour had elapsed, she found herself incompany with him and Jim, holding a conference with Captain Williams, inthe little cabin of the _Anne_. 

CHAPTER XXIII. 

THE BRIG ANNE

Was a small, old-fashioned, black-hulled vessel, marvellously resemblinga collier in her outward appearance. She was a one-masted ship, of 180tons burthen, and promised everything but aristocratic accommodationsfor women and children. 

The cabin was a low, square room, meant to contain only the captain andhis mate; whose berths, curtained with coarse red stuff, occupied theopposite walls. The table in the centre was a fixture, and the benchwhich ran round three sides of this crib, was a fixture also; and thoughbacked by the wall, was quite near enough to the table to serve thedouble purpose of chair or sofa. A small fireplace occupied the front ofthe cabin, at the side of which, a door opened into a tiny closet, whichthe Captain dignified with the name of his state-cabin. The compass wassuspended in a brass box from the ceiling, —articles of comfort or luxurythere were none. 

The Captain, a stout, broad-shouldered, red-faced man, like CaptainAyre of the _Flora_, was minus an eye; but the one which fortune hadleft him was a piercer. He was a rough, blunt-looking tar, someforty-five or fifty years of age; and looked about as sentimental andpolite as a tame bear. His coarse, weather-beaten face had an honest, frank expression, and he bade his guests to be seated with an air ofsuch hearty hospitality, that they felt quite at home in his narrow lowden. 

He had no cabin-passengers, though a great many in the steerage; and heassured Flora that she could have the very best accommodations, as hewould resign the state-cabin to her and the child. Mr. Lyndsay couldoccupy the mate’s berth in the cabin, and they could not fail of beingquite snug and comfortable. 

The state-cabin was just big enough to hold the captain’s chest ofdrawers, the top of which, boarded, and draped with the same faded redstuff which decorated the outer room, formed the berth that Flora was tooccupy. Small as the place was, it was scrupulously neat and clean, andpossessed for Flora one great charm—that of privacy. She could, byshutting the door and drawing the bolt, at any time enjoy the luxury offinding herself, though in a crowded vessel, alone. 

“Mamma Flora, are you not charmed with the splendid accommodations ofyour fancy ship?” whispered the mischievous Jim. “There is not room fora flea to hop, without giving him the cramp in his legs. ”

“It is better than the _Flora_; so hold your tongue, you wicked imp. ”

But Lyndsay thought otherwise. The _Flora_ was larger, and was to sail afortnight earlier. He demurred—his wife coaxed and entreated; but heonly went so far as to tell the captain to keep the berths unoccupieduntil the following day, and he would inform him of his finaldetermination. 

Just as they were rising to take leave, a tall, lanky man, stuck hislong scraggy neck in at the cabin-door, and, in the broadest Scotchvernacular, exclaimed, —

“To what port are ye bound, man?”

“Quebec and Montreal. ”

“Wull you tak’ a cabin-passenger on reasonable terms?”

“The fare is fixed by the owner of the vessel, P. Gregg, Bank-street, Leith. You had better apply to him. ”

“Weel, I dinna’ think I’ll jest go noo. I want to see the Canada lochs. Ane o’ these days I’ll tak’ passage wi’ you onyhow. ”

“Perhaps a glass of brandy and water would serve your purpose at thistime, ” said the captain, with a knowing smile. 

“I’ve noo objections, captain, ” said the long-visaged traveller to thelochs o’ Canada. 

“That’s one way of getting a glass of brandy for nothing, ” said thecaptain, as he accompanied the Lyndsays to the deck. “That fellow has asmuch notion of going to Canada, as I have of taking a voyage to themoon. But he knows that I will give him the brandy to get rid of him. ”

“What do you think of the _Anne_ and her captain, John?” said Flora, asshe took the proffered arm of her husband. “He is a rough sailor, butlooks like an honest man. And the ship, though small, is clean, andoffers better accommodations than the _Flora_, where we should have toshare a small cabin with fourteen passengers. ”

“My dear wife, it may all be true what you say; but I have made up mymind to go in the _Flora_. She sails so much earlier, that it will be agreat saving of time and expense. ”

Flora’s countenance fell; but she only muttered to herself, —

“Oh, I have such a horror of going in that ship!”

At the turning of the street they met Mr. Peterson, the owner of the_Flora_, to whom Lyndsay had spoken about taking a passage in her theday before. 

“Well, Mr. Lyndsay, ” said he, shaking hands in a friendly manner withhim; “have you concluded to take passage in my vessel?”

“Not quite, ” returned Lyndsay, laughing. “My wife has such anunconquerable aversion to going with your captain and his sons, onaccount of the reprobate language they used the other day in herhearing, that she has actually found up another vessel in which shewishes me to sail. ”

“Oh, the _Anne_, Captain Williams, ” said Peterson, with a contemptuoussmile, —“the last and the most insignificant vessel which leaves ourport. The owner, P. Gregg, is not a liberal person to deal with; thecaptain is a good seaman, but a stubborn brute, —quite as unfit for thesociety of ladies as Captain Ayre. To tell you the truth, we have littlechoice in these matters. It is not the manners of the men we employ wegenerally look to, but to their nautical skill. There is, however, onegreat objection to your taking passage in the _Anne_, which I think itright you should know. She has a most objectionable freight. ”

“In what respect?”

“She is loaded with brandy and gunpowder. ”

“By no means a pleasant cargo, ” said Lyndsay. “What do you say to that, Flora?” turning to his wife. 

“I will tell you to-morrow: do wait until then. ”

In order to pacify her evident uneasiness, Lyndsay promised to postponehis decision. 

When they reached their lodgings, they found a short, round-faced, rosy, good-natured looking individual, waiting to receive them, who introducedhimself as Mr. Gregg, the owner of the _Anne_. He had learned fromCaptain Williams, that they had been inspecting the capabilities of hisvessel. 

“She is a small ship, ” said he, “but safe; the captain, a steady, experienced seaman; and if Mr. Lyndsay engaged a passage for himself andfamily, he would grant the most liberal terms. ”

Lyndsay mentioned his objections to the freight. 

“Who told you that?” asked the little owner, somewhat excited. 

“Mr. Peterson. We parted from him only a few minutes ago. ”

“The scoundrel! the mean, dirty scoundrel!” said Gregg, stamping on thefloor. “Why, Sir, Mr. Lyndsay, his own ship carries the same freight. What did he say about that?”

“He told me yesterday, she took out a general cargo——”

“Of brandy and gunpowder. Both vessels are employed by the same house, and take out the same freight. You must, however, please yourself, Mr. Lyndsay. The _Flora_ has a great number of passengers of the lowestcast, —is old and crank; with the most vicious, morose captain that sailsfrom this port. I know him only too well. He made two voyages for me;and the letters I received, complaining of his brutal conduct to some ofhis passengers, I can show you at my office. ”

“You have said enough, Mr. Gregg, to deter me from taking my wife andchild in the _Flora_. The deceitful conduct of Mr. Peterson alone wouldhave determined me not to contract with him. And now, what will you takeus for? Our party consists of my wife and infant, a lad of thirteenyears who accompanies us, a servant-girl, and myself. ”

Mr. Gregg considered for some minutes. “Well, ” he said, “there is alarge party of you; but I will give your wife, child, and self, a cabinpassage, finding you in the same fare as the captain, and the lad andservant a second cabin passage, but the privilege of the cabin-table, for thirty pounds. Is that too much?”

“It is very liberal indeed. Peterson asked fifty. ”

“It is reasonable; but as you have to wait a fortnight longer in orderto sail with me, I have taken that into account. Is it a bargain?”

They struck hands; and Mr. Gregg, after drawing up an agreement, whichLyndsay signed, turned to Mrs. Lyndsay, and pressingly invited the wholeparty to spend the following afternoon with them in a friendly way. 

“My wife is a homely little body, ” he said; “but she will do her best tomake you comfortable, and will give you, at any rate, a hearty Scotchwelcome. ”

“Now, Flora, are you not delighted in having it your own way?” saidLyndsay, after Mr. Gregg left them. “But let me assure you, my dearwife, you owe it entirely to the mean conduct of Mr. Peterson. I tellyou frankly, that I would not have yielded my better judgment to a mereprejudice, even to please you. ”

“You are determined, John, that I shall never fulfil the gipsy’sprophecy. ”

“What was that?”

“Did I never tell you that story, nor the girls either? for it was astanding joke against me at home for years. Oh, you must have it then. But be generous, and don’t turn it as a weapon against me:—

“Some years ago, a gipsy woman came to our kitchen-door, and asked tosee the young ladies of the house. Of course, we all ran out to look atthe sybil, and hear her errand, which was nothing more nor less than totell our fortunes. Partly out of curiosity, partly out of fun, wedetermined to have a peep into futurity, and see what the coming yearshad in store for us. We did not believe in gipsy craft. We well knewthat, like our own, the woman’s powers were limited; that it was allguess-work; that her cunning rested in a shrewd knowledge ofcharacter, —of certain likings springing out of contrasts, which led herto match the tall with the short, the fair with the dark, the mild withthe impetuous, the sensitive and timid with the bold and adventurous. Onthese seeming contrarieties the whole art of fortune-telling, as far asmy experience goes, appears based. 

“Well, she gave husbands to us all—dark, fair, middle-complexioned, short and tall, amiable, passionate, or reserved—just the opposite ofour own complexions or temperament, such as she judged them to be; andshe showed a great deal of talent and keen perception of character inthe choice of our mates. 

“In my case, however, she proved herself to be no prophet. I was tomarry a sea-faring gentleman—a tall, black-eyed, passionate man—withwhom I was to travel to foreign parts, and die in a foreign land. I wasto have no children; and he was to be very jealous of me. ‘And yet, forall that, ’ quoth the gipsy, drawing close up to me, and whispering in myear, but not so low, but that all the rest heard her concluding speech, ‘you shall wear the breeches. ’”

“She did not bargain that you were to marry a Scotchman, ” said Lyndsay, laughing. 

“Nor did she know, with all her pretended art, that my husband was to bea soldier, fair-haired, and blue-eyed, and that this little lass wouldgive a direct contradiction to her prophecy, ” and Flora kissed fondlyJosey’s soft cheek. “Well, I was so tormented about that last clause inmy fortune, that I determined it should never come to pass; thatwhatever portion of my husband’s dress I coveted, I would scrupulouslyavoid even the insertion of a toe into his nether garments. ”

“You forget, Flora, your trip to the mountain, without my consent?”whispered Lyndsay, mischievously. 

Flora coloured, stammered, and at last broke into a hearty laugh, —“I wastoo great a coward, John, to wear them with becoming dignity. If thatwas wearing the breeches, I am sure I disgraced them with my worse thanwomanish fears. I will never put them on again. ”

“My dear wife, I’ll take good care you shan’t. When a Scotchman has anybreeks to wear, he likes to keep them all to himself. ”

“Ah! we well know what a jealous, monopolising set you are. Let any oneattempt to interfere with your rights, and, like your sturdy nationalemblem, you are armed to the teeth, ” said Flora, as she ran off to ordertea. 

CHAPTER XXIV. 

A VISIT TO THE SHIP OWNERS. 

Early in the afternoon of the following day our family party set off topay their promised visit. The weather was delightful, and Flora was inan ecstasy of high spirits, as they turned from the narrow streets ofLeith into a beautiful lane, bounded on each side by hawthorn hedges, redolent with the perfume of the sweetbrier and honeysuckle. The breathof new-mown hay floated on the air, and the lilac and laburnum, in fullblossom, waved their graceful boughs above the white palings whichsurrounded many a pleasant country retreat, in which the tired citizen, after the toils of the day in the busy marts of commerce, returned toenjoy a comfortable dish of tea with his family. 

A walk of half-a-mile brought them to the suburban retreat of the worthyMr. Gregg, and he was at the green garden-gate to receive his guests, his honest, saucy face, radiant with an honest welcome. 

“I was fearful ye wud not keep your promise, ” said he: “my youngstersha’ been on the look-out for you for this hour. ”

Here he pushed the giggling youngsters forward, in the shape of twobouncing, rosy-faced school-girls, who were playing at bo-peep behindpapa’s broad blue back, and whose red cheeks grew crimson with blushesas he presented them to his guests. 

James Hawke seemed to think the merry girls, who were of his own age, well worth looking at, if you might judge by the roguish sparkling ofhis fine black eyes, as he bounded off with them to be introduced to thestrawberry-beds, and all the other attractions of the worthy citizen’sgarden. 

It was a large, old-fashioned house, which had seen better days, andstood on a steep sloping hill, commanding a beautiful view of Edinburgh. The grand old mountain loomed in the distance, and the bright Forth, with all its wealth of white sails, glittered in the rays of thedeclining sun. 

“What a delightful situation!” exclaimed Flora, as her eye ranged overthe beautiful scene. 

“Ay, ’tis a bonnie place, ” said Mr. Gregg, greatly exalted in his owneyes, as master of the premises;—“an’ very healthy for the bairns. Ioften walked past this old house when I was but a ’prentice lad in theHigh-street, o’ Sunday afternoons, and used to peep through the pales, and admire the old trees, an’ fruits, an’ flowers; an’ I thought if Ihad sic a braw place of my ain, I should think mysel richer than acrow’ed king. I was a puir callant in those days. It was only a dream, afairy dream; yet here I am, master of the auld house, and the prettygardens. Industry and prudence, my dear madam—industry and prudence, hasdone it all, and converted my air-built castle into substantial brickand stane. ”

Flora admired the old man’s honest pride. She had thought him coarse andvulgar, while in reality he was only what the Canadians term _homely_;for his heart was brimful of kindly affections and good feeling. Therewas not a particle of pretence about him, —of forced growth or refinedcultivation; a genuine product of the soil, a respectable man in everysense of the word. Proud of his country, and doubly proud of the wealthhe had acquired by honest industry. A little vain and pompous, perhaps, but most self-made men are so: they are apt to overrate the talentswhich have lifted them out of obscurity, and to fancy that the worldestimates their worth and importance by the same standard as they dothemselves. 

In the house, they were introduced to Mrs. Gregg, who was just such aperson as her husband had described: a cheerful, middle-aged woman, veryshort, very stout, and very hospitable. Early as it was, the tea-tablewas loaded with good cheer. Large strawberries preserved whole, and thatpet sweetmeat of the Scotch, orange marmalade, looked tempting enough, in handsome dishes of cut glass, flanked by delicious home-made breadand butter, cream, cheese, and sweet curds. 

A tall, fine-looking woman, very gaily dressed, was presented to theLyndsays as Mrs. M’Nish, a married daughter. Her husband was aloud-voiced, large-whiskered consequential-looking young man, whose goodhumour and admiration of himself, his wife, his father andmother-in-law, and the big house, appeared inexhaustible. His young wifeseemed to look upon him as something super-human; and to every remarkshe made, she appealed to Wullie, as she called him, for his verdict ofapproval. 

Little Josey, who made one of the party, was soon on the most intimateterms with the family group. The young married woman, after bestowingupon her many kisses, passed her over to her husband, telling him, witha little laugh, “that she wondered if he would make a good nurse: it wastime for him to commence practising. ” Then she blushed and giggled, andthe old man chuckled and rubbed his knees, and the mother looked up witha quiet smile as the jolly bridegroom burst into a loud laugh. “Ay, Jeanmy woman, it’s time enough to think o’ troubles when they come. ” Andthen he tossed Miss Josey up to the ceiling with such vigorous jerks, that Flora watched his gymnastics in nervous fear lest the child shouldfall out of his huge grasp and break her neck. 

Not so Josey; she never was better pleased in her life; she crowed andscreamed with delight, and rewarded her Scotch nurse, by tangling hertiny white fingers in his bushy red whiskers, and pulling his long nose. 

“Haut! you’re a speretted lass. Is that the way you mean to lead themen?” he said, as he bounced her down into his wife’s lap, and told her, “that it was her turn to mak’ a trial o’ that kind o’ wark, an’ see howit wud fit: he was verra’ sure he sud sune be tired o’t. ” And thisspeech was received with another giggle, followed by a loud laugh. 

The old gentleman was impatient to discuss the important business oftea-drinking; after which he proposed to have the pleasure of showinghis visitors the garden, and some other grand sight of which he wouldnot speak now, but which he was certain must be appreciated by everyperson, who possessed a half-pennyworth of taste. 

Flora sat down to the table, wondering what they could be. 

Big Wullie stepped to the hall-door, and summoned the children to theevening meal with a loud hallo! which was answered from among the treesby a jovial shout, and in a few minutes the young folks poured into theroom, some of them looking rather dull, from their protracted visit tothe strawberry-beds. 

The fresh air and exercise had given Mrs. Lyndsay an unusual appetite. She enjoyed her meal, but this did not satisfy the overflowinghospitality of her entertainers, who pressed her in every possiblemanner to take more, till she felt very much inclined to answer with thepoor country girl, “Dear knows, I can’t eat another bit. ”

There was no way of satisfying the entreaties of the Greggs, but bymaking a retreat from the table, and even then they persisted indeclaring their guests had been starved, and would not do the leastjustice to their good cheer. 

This mistaken kindness brought to Flora’s mind a story she had heardLyndsay tell of a merchant of Edinburgh who went to the north ofScotland to visit some country folk who were his near relations. Thegood people were outrageously glad to see him, and literally killed thefatted calf, and concocted all sorts of country dainties in order tocelebrate the advent of their distinguished guest, who it seems, in thiscase, was in less danger of starving than of being stuffed to death. 

Having partaken at dinner of all, and perhaps of rather more than herequired, he did his best to resist their further importunities for himto eat _more_, but finding his refusal to do so increased their anxietyto force upon him the good things they had to bestow, he spread a largesilk pocket-handkerchief upon his knees, under cover of the table-cloth, into which he contrived dexterously to empty the contents of his plate, whenever the eye of his watchful hostess was off him. At last, even herimportunities for him to continue the feast grew fainter, and she woundup by exclaiming, “You ha’ made a verra puir dinner, Sir; ye ha’ justeaten nothing ava’. ”

At this speech, hardly able to keep his gravity, he placed hishandkerchief upon the table, and displayed its contents of fish, flesh, fowl, and confectionaries, to his astonished entertainers, exclaiming, as he did so, “My dear Madam, think what would have become of me, had Ieaten all this!”

It was no feast of reason, at the honest Greggs; the entertainment wasof the most animal kind, and Flora felt relieved when it was over, andthe whole party issued once more into the pure air. 

She was just hastening to a parterre, gay with roses, to rifle some ofits sweets, when the old gentleman came panting hard upon her track. “Yemust come an’ see my raree-show, before the sun gangs doun, ” he cried;and Flora turned and followed him back into the house. In the hall thewhole family party were collected. 

“I’ll gang first, father, and open the door, ” cried a merry boy offourteen, and beckoning to Jim, they both clattered after each other upthe old-fashioned stairs. 

Old houses in Edinburgh and its vicinity are so high, one would thinkthe people in those days wished to build among the stars; at least toemulate the far-famed wonders of that language-confounding tower, whichcaused the first emigration, by scattering the people over the face ofthe earth. 

They went up, and up, and up, until there seemed no end to the broad, short steps. On the last flight, which led to the roof, the staircasehad so greatly contracted its proportions, that fat Mr. Gregg couldscarcely force himself up it, and he so completely obscured the lightwhich peered down upon them from a small trap-door, opening upon theleads, that Flora, who followed him, found herself in a dim twilight, and expected every moment the panting mountain, which had come betweenher and the sky, would lose the centre of gravity, and suffocate her inits fall. 

No such tragic misfortune, however, occurred. The old gentleman forcedhimself, after much squeezing and puffing off steam, through the narrowaperture, and very gallantly lent a hand to assist Flora on to theleads. 

“This is a strait gate, on a narrow way, ” he cried. “But tell me, if itdoes na’ gie ye a glimpse o’ heaven?”

The old man was right. Flora stood entranced, as it were, with theglorious spectacle which burst upon her sight, the moment she steppedupon the roof of that old house. Edinburgh, and the world of beauty thatlies around it, lay at her feet, bathed in the golden light of agorgeous June sunset. To those who have beheld that astonishingpanorama, all description must prove abortive. It is a sight to bedaguerreotyped upon the heart. 

“Weel, was it not worth toiling up yon weary stair, to get sic a glimpseas that, of the brave auld town?” said honest P. Gregg. “I’m jestthinkin’ I must enlarge the stair, or diminish mysel, before I canventure through that narrow pass again. An’, my dear leddy, I can doneither the one nor the other. So this mayhap may be my last glint o’the bonnie auld place. ”

Then he went on, after his quaint fashion, to point out to MistressLyndsay all the celebrated spots in the neighbourhood, which every Scotknows by heart, and Flora was so much amused and interested by hisnarration, that she was sorry when the deepening shades of approachingnight warned the old man that it required daylight to enable him todescend the narrow stair, and they reluctantly left the scene. 

CHAPTER XXV. 

FLORA’S DINNER. 

Lyndsay had some literary friends in Edinburgh, whose kindly intercoursegreatly enhanced the pleasure of a month’s residence near the metropolisof Scotland. The foremost among these was M——, the poet, who, likeLyndsay, was a native of the Orkney Islands. Having been entertained atthe house of this gentleman, he naturally wished to return his courtesy. 

“Flora, ” said he, addressing his wife, the day after their visit to theGreggs, “do you think you could manage a dinner for a few friends?”

Flora dropped her work, and opened her eyes in blank dismay at the veryidea of such a thing. 

“What, in these poor lodgings? and Mrs. Waddel such an impracticable, helpless old body? My dear John, it is impossible!”

Now, Lyndsay had set his heart upon the dinner, which he thought notonly very possible, but could see no difficulty at all about it. Mennever look behind the scenes, or consider the minor details of suchthings; and on these trifling items, in their eyes, the real success orfailure of most domestic arrangements depend. But Flora had been behindthe scenes, and knew all about it, to her cost, for it was with thegreatest difficulty she could prevail upon Mrs. Waddel to cook theplainest food. Mrs. Waddel declared she could “na fash hersel about;that dainties were a’ verra weel, but the meat ate jest as sweet withoutthem. ” The idea of such a tardy mistress of the kitchen cooking a dinnerfor company, appeared perfectly ridiculous to Flora, who knew that anyattempt of the kind must end in mortification and disappointment. 

“Flora, ” said Lyndsay, quite seriously, “I am certain that you couldmanage it quite well, if you would only make the trial. ”

“It is from no unwillingness on my part that I object to yourentertaining your friends. But there is but one cooking range in thehouse, and that one small and inconvenient, and I fear the cookingutensils are limited to the dimensions of the fire. ”

“There is a large fireplace in our bed-chamber, Flora, ” said Lyndsay, unwilling to beat a retreat. 

“True, ” replied Flora, musingly; “I did not think of that. It would dothat damp, cold room good to get a fire lighted in it. ”

Seeing her husband determined upon the dinner, she began to question himas to the items of the entertainment. 

“Oh, nothing particular, dear. M—— knows that we are in lodgings, andcan’t manage as well as if we were in a house of our own. A nice cut offresh salmon, which is always to be had in the fish-market, a smallroast of beef, or leg of mutton, with vegetables and a pudding, will do;and, above all things, Flora, don’t look annoyed, if every thing doesnot exactly please you, or it will only make matters worse. I am goingto call upon M—— this morning, and I will ask him and his friend P——tostep over and dine with us at six o’clock. ”

“What shall we do for wine and spirits?”

“I will order these as I go along. So mind, dear, and have everything assnug and comfortable as you can. ”

In spite of the anxiety she felt as to the success of the dinner, Floracould not help pausing to admire the spacious fish-market, with its coolstone pavement and slabs of white marble, on which lay piled inmagnificent profusion, the most beautiful specimens of the finny rangersof the deep. Filled with marine curiosities, she could have spent hoursin contemplating the picturesque groups it presented. There lay thesalmon in its delicate coat of blue and silver; the mullet, in pink andgold; the mackerel, with its blending of all hues, —gorgeous as the tailof the peacock, and defying the art of the painter to transfer them tohis canvas; the plaice, with its olive green coat, spotted with vividorange, which must flash like sparks of flame glittering in the depthsof the dark waters; the cod, and the siller haddies, all freckled withbrown, and silver, and gold; the snake-like eel, stretching its slimylength along the cool stone pavement, among moving heaps of tawnycrabs—those spiders of the deep—which seemed to emulate thescorpion-like lobsters near them in repulsive ugliness. 

But what most enchanted Flora, was the antique costume of the Newhavenfish-women, as, seated upon their upturned baskets, they called theattention of the visitor to their various stores of fish. 

Flora was never tired of looking at these sea-maids and matrons. Theirprimitive appearance, and quaint, old-fashioned dress, took her fancygreatly—with their short petticoats, their blue stockings and buckledshoes, their neat, striped linen-jackets, and queer little caps, justcovering the top of their head, and coming down in long, straight mobs, over their ears; their honest, broad features, and pleasant faces, whichhad been fair before the sun and the sea air tanned them to that warm, deep brown; their round, red arms, and handsome feet and legs, displayedwith a freedom and ease which custom had robbed of all indecorum, andrendered natural and proper. 

Flora wished that she had been an artist, to copy some of the fine formsshe saw among these fish-girls—forms which had been left as the greatGod of nature made them, uncrippled by torturing stays and tightvestments. How easy their carriage! with what rude grace they poisedupon their heads their ponderous baskets, and walked erect and firm, filling the air with their mournfully-musical cry! The great resemblancebetween these people and the Bavarian broom-girls, both in features andcostume, impressed her with the idea, that they had originally belongedto the same race. The Newhaven sea-nymph, however, is taller, and has amore imposing presence, than the short, snub-nosed Bavarian. 

But time, that waits on no one’s fancy or caprice, warned her that shemust not linger over a scene which she afterwards visited with renewedpleasure, but gave her a gentle hint, that there was work to be done athome—that she had better make her purchases and proceed to business. 

She returned, therefore, to her lodgings in high spirits, despatchingJim to the greengrocer’s in the next street, and then followed Hannahand her basket into Mrs. Waddel’s kitchen. 

“Marcy me! what ha’ ye got, the noo?” said Mistress Waddel, lifting thenapkin from the basket: “meat enough, I declare, to last the hale week. The weather’s owr hot, I’m thinkin’, for a’ they to keep sweet saelang. ”

“Mrs. Waddel, I expect two gentlemen to dinner, particular friends ofMr. Lyndsay; and I want you to cook these things for me as well as youcan, ” said Flora coaxingly. 

“Twa’ gentlemen, did ye say?—There’s ten times mair in yon basket thantwa gentlemen can eat!”

“Of course there is; but we cannot stint our guests. ”

“Whist, woman!” cried Mrs. Waddel, “it makes my heid ache only to thinkabout a’ that roast an’ boil, an’ boil an’ roast!”

“Pray, how did you contrive to cook for Lady Weyms?” asked Flora, ratherindignantly. 

“Gudeness gracious! Do ye think, that my Leddy Weyms cared for thecooking o’ the like o’ me? When his late majestie, God bless him, honoured our auld toon wi’ his preesence, folk were glad to get adeecent place to cover their heids, an’ war in no wise owr particlar, sae they could get lodged ava. ”

“So I should think, when a titled lady put up with such as these; wherethe mistress engages to cook for her lodgers, and has not a whole pot inher culinary establishment. ”

“My Leddy brought her ain cook, an’ she had my twa best rooms jest affthe passage, whar’ Captain Macpherson bides the noo. ”

“And how do you manage to cook for him?” asked Flora, very sullenly. 

“He keeps a man. An auld soger, whar’ does the cooking himsel. ”

However, the dinner went off better than could have been expected, though little praise could be conscientiously given to the cooking. Thefish was done _too much_, the ham _too little_, and the baked fowlslooked hard and dry. The pastry was the only thing at table about whichno fault could be found. 

After the cloth was removed, Flora gave the poet and his friend thehistory of the dinner, which so amused Mr. M. , that he declared it wasworth twenty dinners hearing her relate the misadventures of themorning. Flora forgot the disasters of the day while enjoying theconversation of Mr. M. And his friend, —men who had won by their geniusno common literary reputation in the world; and the short hour “ayontthe twal” had been tolled some time from all the steeples in Edinburghbefore the little party separated, mutually pleased with each other, never to meet in this world of change again. 

CHAPTER XXVI. 

FEARS OF THE CHOLERA—DEPARTURE FROM SCOTLAND. 

The cholera, which had hitherto only claimed a few victims in the city, now began to make fearful progress; and every day enlarged the catalogueof the dead, and those who were labouring under this awful disease. People seemed unwilling to name the ravages of the plague to each other;or spoke of it in low, mysterious tones, as a subject too dreadful forordinary conversation. 

Just at this time Flora fell ill, and was forced to keep her bed forseveral days. During the time she was confined to her chamber, Mrs. Waddel kept up a constant lamentation, declaring that the reputation ofher lodgings would be lost for ever, if Mrs. Lyndsay should die of thecholera. Yet, to do the good creature justice, she waited upon her, andnursed her with most unselfish kindness; making gallons of gruel, whichthe invalid scarcely tasted, and recommending remedies which, ifadopted, would have been certain to kill the patient, for whose life shemost earnestly and devoutly prayed. 

The very morning that Mrs. Lyndsay was able to leave her bed, herhusband got a note from Mr. Gregg, informing him that the _Anne_ was tosail at four o’clock the next day. 

“My dear Flora, ” said Lyndsay, tenderly, “I fear you are not able to goin your present weak state. ”

“Oh yes, I shall be better for the change. This frightful cholera isspreading on all sides. The sooner, dear John, we can leave this placethe better. Two persons, Mrs. Waddel told me, died last night of it, only a few doors off. I know that it is foolish to be afraid of an evilwhich we cannot avoid; but I find it impossible to divest myself of thisfear. I look worse than I feel just now, ” she continued, walking acrossthe room, and surveying her face in the glass. “My colour is returning—Ishall pass muster with the doctors yet. ”

The great business of packing up for the voyage went steadily forwardall day; and before six in the evening, trunks, bedding, and little shipstores, were on board, ready for a start. 

Flora was surprised in the afternoon by a visit from Mr. And Mrs. Gregg, and the two rosy girls, who expressed the greatest regret at theirdeparture. They had made a plum-cake for Mrs. Lyndsay to eat during thevoyage; and truly it looked big enough to have lasted out a trip to theSouth Seas, while Mrs. Gregg had brought various small tin canistersfilled with all sorts of farinaceous food for the baby. 

Abundant as their kindness was, the blessings and good wishes theyheaped upon the emigrants were more abundant still; the kind-heartedmother and her bonnie girls, kissing them at parting, with tearscoursing down their rosy cheeks. Mr. Gregg, who was terribly afraid ofthe cholera, tried to raise his own spirits, by describing all the fatalsymptoms of the disease, and gave them a faithful catalogue of those whohad died of it that morning in the city. He had great faith in a newremedy, which was just then making a noise in the town, which had beentried the day before, on a relation of his own—the injection of saltinto veins of the sufferer. 

“Did it cure him?” asked Flora, rather eagerly. 

“Why no, I canna jest say that it did. But it enabled him to mak’ hiswill an’ settle a’ his worldly affairs, which was a great point gained. ”

“For the living, ” sighed Flora. “Small satisfaction to the dying, to bedisturbed in their last agonies, by attending to matters of business, while a greater reckoning is left unpaid. ”

“You look ill yoursel, Mistress Lyndsay, ” continued the gude man. “Let’shope that it’s not the commencement of the awfu’ disease. ”

“I thought so myself two days ago, ” said Flora. “I am grateful to Godthat it was not the cholera. Does it ever break out on board ship?”

“It is an affliction sae lately sent upon the nations by the Lord, thatwe have had sma’ experience o’ the matter, ” quoth Mr. Gregg. “Your bestchance is to trust in Him. For let us be ever so cautious, an He willsit, we canna’ escape out o’ His hand. ”

“Perhaps it is the best way to confide ourselves entirely to His care, and to think as little about it as we possibly can. All our precautionsremind me of the boy who hid up in the cellar during a terriblethunderstorm, in the hope that the lightning would never find him there, little dreaming, that his place of safety exposed him to as much dangeras a stand on the house-top. A man may run away from a battle, andescape from a fire, but it seems to me of little use attempting to flyfrom a pestilence which lurks in the very air we breathe, the water wedrink, and the food we take to nourish us. Faith in the mercy of God, and submission to His will appear to me the only remedies at all likelyto avert the danger we shrink from with so much fear. ”

“It comes like a thief in the night, ” said Mr. Gregg; “and it behoves usall to mind the warning o’ the Saviour, to watch an’ pray, for we knownot at what hour the Master of the house cometh. ”

After the good Greggs had made their adieus, Flora felt so muchrecovered that she accompanied her husband in a coach, to bid the restof their kind friends in Edinburgh farewell. 

They drove first to the house of Mr. W. , where Flora had spent manyhappy days during her sojourn in Leith. Mr. W. Had an only son, who heldan official situation at the Cape of Good Hope. Lyndsay had been onintimate terms with this gentleman during his residence in the colony;and on his return to Scotland, he was always a welcome visitor at thehouse of his parents. They loved to talk of Willie to Lyndsay, andtreasured up as household words any little anecdotes they could collectof his colonial life. Mrs. W. And her two daughters were highlyaccomplished, elegant women. They took a deep interest in the fate ofthe emigrants, and were always devising plans for their future comfort. 

As to the father of the family, he was a perfect original—shrewd, sarcastic, clever, and _very ugly_. The world called him morose andill-natured; but the world only judged from his face, and most certainlyhe should have indicted it for bringing false witness against him. Itwas a libellous face, which turned the worst aspect to the world; itsharsh lines and exaggerated features magnifying mental defects, whilethey concealed the good qualities of the warm, generous heart that shonelike some precious gem within that hard rough case. 

Mr. W. Loved opposition, and courted it. He roused himself up to anargument, as a terrier dog rouses himself to kill rats; and, like thesaid terrier, when he got the advantage of his opponent, he loved toworry and tease, to hold on till the last, till the vanquished was fainto cry aloud for mercy; and then his main object in quitting the disputewas to lie in wait for a fresh tussel. Flora laughed at all his bluntspeeches, and enjoyed his rude wit, and opposed him, and argued with himto his heart’s content, until they became the best friends in the world. Their first meeting was so characteristic, that we must give it here. 

Flora had accepted an invitation to dine, with her husband, at Mr. W. ’shouse. It was only a family party, and they were to come early. On theirarrival, they found that Mr. W. Had been called away on business, butwas expected back to dinner. After chatting awhile to Mrs. W. And herdaughters, Flora’s attention was strongly directed to an oil-paintingwhich hung above the drawing-room mantelpiece. It was the portrait of anold man, as large as life. The figure was represented in a sittingposture, his head leaning upon his hand, or rather the chin supported inthe open palm. The eyes glanced upward with a sarcastic, humorousexpression, as if the original were in the act of asking some questionwhich a listener might find it no easy matter to answer; and a smile ofmischievous triumph hovered about the mouth. It was an extraordinarycountenance. No common every-day face, to which you could point and say, “Does not that put you in mind of Mr. So-and-So?” Memory could supply noduplicate to this picture. It was like but one other face in the world, the one from which it had been faithfully copied. It was originallymeant for a handsome face, but the features were exaggerated until theybecame grotesque and coarse in the extreme, and the thick, bushy, iron-grey hair and whiskers, and clay-coloured complexion, put thefinishing strokes to a portrait, which might be considered the very_ideal of ugliness_. 

While Flora sat looking at the picture, and secretly wondering how anyperson with such a face could bear to see it transferred to canvas, shewas suddenly roused from her reverie by the pressure of a heavy handupon her shoulder, and a gentleman in a very gruff, but by no means anill-natured or morose voice, thus addressed her. 

“Did you ever see such a d——d ugly old fellow in your life before?”

“Never, ” returned Flora, very innocently. Then, looking up in his face, she cried out with a sudden start, and without the least mentalreservation, “It is the picture of yourself!”

“Yes, it is my picture. An excellent likeness—half bulldog, halfterrier. Judging from that ugly, crabbed old dog over the mantelpiece, what sort of a fellow ought I to be?”

He said this with a malicious twinkle in his clear, grey eyes, whichglanced like sparks of fire from under his thick bushy eyebrows. 

“Better than you look, ” said Flora, laughing. “But your question is nota fair one, Mr. W. ; I was taken by surprise, and you must not press metoo hard. ”

“A clear admission, young lady, that you would rather avoid telling thetruth. ”

“It is the portrait of a plain man. ”

“Pshaw! You did not qualify it as such in your own mind. Plain—is onlyone degree worse than good-looking. You thought it—”

“Ugly—if you insist upon it. ”

“Nothing worse?”

“Eccentric—pugnacious—satirical. ”

“God’s truth! But that was not all?”

“Good heavens! what am I to say?”

“Don’t swear; ’tis not fashionable for ladies. I do it myself; but ’tisa bad habit. Now shall I tell you what you _did think_ of the picture?”

“I would rather have your opinion than mine. ”

“To relieve you from the horns of the dilemma? Well then; you thought itthe ugliest, most repulsive, and withal the oddest phiz you ever saw;and you wondered how any one with such a hideous, morose countenance, could ever sit for the picture?”

“Indeed I did. ”

“Good!” cried her tormentor, clapping his hands. “You and I must befriends. You wonder how I came to guess your thoughts; I know them by myown. Had any one asked my opinion of the picture of another man as uglyas that, I should have spoken out plainly enough. Fortunately thequalities of the mind do not depend upon the beauty of the face; thoughpersonal beauty is greatly increased by the noble qualities of the mind;and I know my inner man to be as vastly superior to its outer case, asthe moon is to the cloud she pierces with her rays. To mind, I amindebted for the greatest happiness I enjoy, —the confidence andaffection of my wife and children. 

“Mrs. W. Was reckoned pretty in her youth; I think her so still. She wasof a good family too; with a comfortable independence, and had lovers bythe score. Yet, she fell in love with the ugly fellow, and married him, though he had neither fame nor fortune to offer her in exchange. Nothingbut the mental treasures he had hid away from the world in this roughcasket. My daughters are elegant, accomplished girls; not beauties, tobe sure, but pleasing enough to be courted and sought after. Yet, theyare proud of being thought like their ugly old father. That picture mustbe a likeness; it is pourtrayed by the hand of love. My dear girl theredrew it with her own pencil, and rejoiced that she had caught the veryexpression of my face. To her, my dear lady, it is beautiful—for love isblind. She does not heed the ugly features; she only sees the mind shehonours and obeys, looking through them. ”

“Ah, dear papa, who that knows you, as we know you, could ever think youugly?” said Mary W. , laying her hand on the old man’s shoulder, andlooking fondly and proudly in his face. “But I have forgotten all thistime to introduce you to Mrs. Lyndsay. ”

“My old friend Lyndsay’s wife? I ought not to be pleased with you, madam, for you disappointed a favourite scheme of mine. ”

“How could that possibly be?” said Flora. 

“I loved that man of yours; I wanted him for a son-in-law. Of course, neither I nor the girls hinted such a wish to him. But had he asked, hewould not have been refused. ”

“Mrs. Lyndsay!” broke in Mary W. , “you must not mind papa’s nonsense. Hewill say just what he likes. Mr. Lyndsay was always a great favouritewith us all; and papa would have his joke at our expense. ”

“Well, my young friend has thought fit to please himself, and I am sowell pleased with his wife, that she shall sit by the ugly old man; ‘an’I will ha’ a spate o’ clatter wi’ her to mine ain sel. ’”

The more Flora saw of the eccentric old man, the more she admired andrespected him. In a little time, she ceased to think him ugly—he wasonly plain and odd-looking; till at length, like all the rest of Mr. W. ’s friends, she almost believed him handsome. When did genius everfail to leave upon the rudest clay, an impress of its divine origin?

It was with feelings of mutual regret that our emigrants took leave, andfor ever, of this talented family. Before the expiration of one shortyear, that happy group of kind faces had passed out of the world! Thesudden death of the younger Mr. W. , who was the idol of the family, brought his mother in sorrow to the grave. The girls, by some strangefatality, only survived her a few weeks; and the good old man, bereft ofevery kindred tie, pined away and died of a broken heart!

Some years after Flora had been settled in Canada, a gentleman fromScotland, who had been acquainted with the W. Family, told her that hecalled upon the old gentleman on a matter of business, a few days afterthe funeral of his youngest daughter. The old man opened the door: hewas shrunk to a skeleton, and a perfect image of woe. When he saw whohis visitor was, he shook his thin, wasted hand at him, with amelancholy, impatient gesture, exclaiming, “What brings you here, P——?Leave this death-doomed house! I am too miserable to attend to anythingbut my own burden of incurable grief. ” He called again the followingmorning. The poor old man was dead!

The next day the emigrants bade farewell to the beautiful capital ofScotland. How gladly would Flora have terminated her earthly pilgrimagein that land of poetry and romance, and spent the rest of her days amongits truthful, high-minded, hospitable people! But vain are regrets. Theinexorable spirit of progress points onward; and the beings she choosesto be the parents of a new people, in a new land, must fulfil theirdestiny. 

On the 1st of July, 1832, the Lyndsays embarked on board the brig_Anne_, to seek a new home beyond the Atlantic, and friends in a land ofstrangers. 

CHAPTER XXVII. 

A NEW SCENE AND STRANGE FACES. 

Four o’clock P. M. Had been tolled from all the steeples in Edinburgh, when Flora stood upon the pier “o’ Leith, ” watching the approach of thesmall boat which was to convey her on board the ugly black vessel whichlay at anchor at the Berwick Law. It was a warm, close, hazy afternoon;distant thunder muttered among the hills, and dense clouds floatedaround the mountain from base to summit, shrouding its rugged outline ina mysterious robe of mist. Ever and anon, as the electrical breezesprang up and stirred these grey masses of vapour, they rolled up inblack shadowy folds which took all sorts of Ossianic and phantom-likeforms—spirits of bards and warriors, looking from their grey clouds uponthe land their songs had immortalised, or their valour saved. 

Parties of emigrants and their friends were gathered together in smallpicturesque groups on the pier. The cheeks of the women were pale andwet with tears. The words of blessing and farewell, spoken to thosenear and dear to them, were often interrupted by low wailing andheart-breaking sobs. 

Flora stood apart waiting for her husband, who had been to the ship, andwas in the returning boat now making its way through the water to takeher off. Sad she was, and pale and anxious, for the wide world was allbefore her, a world of new scenes and strange faces. A future asinscrutable and mysterious almost as that from which humanityinstinctively shrinks, which leads so many to cling with expiring energyto evils with which they have grown familiar, rather than launch aloneinto that unknown sea which never bears upon its bosom a returning sail. Ah! well is it for the poor trembling denizens of earth that—

 “Heaven from all creatures hides the book of fate, ”

or how could they bear up from day to day against the accumulated illswhich beset them at every turn along the crooked paths of life?

Flora had already experienced that bitterness of grief, far worse thandeath, which separates the emigrant from the home of his love, thefriends of his early youth, the land of his birth; and she shed no tearover the mournful recollection, though the deep sigh which shook herheart to its inmost depths, told that it was still felt and painfullypresent to her memory. She stood alone among that weeping crowd; nokindred hand was there to press hers for the last, last time, or bid Godspeed her on her perilous voyage. What a blessing it would have been atthat moment, to have bent a parting glance on some dear familiar face, and gathered strength and consolation from eyes full of affection andsympathy!

The beautiful landscape which had so often cheered and gladdened herheart, during her brief sojourn, no longer smiled upon her, but wasobscured in storm and gloom. The thunder which had only muttered at adistance, now roared among the cloud-capped hills, and heavy drops ofrain began to patter slowly upon the earth and sea. These brightglobules in advance of the heavy shower whose approach they announced, made small dimples in the waters, spreading anon into large circles, until the surface of the salt brine seemed to boil and dance, which afew minutes before had lain so glassy and still, beneath the hot breathof the coming storm. Flora thought how soon those billows would chafeand roar for ever between her and her native land. 

Then the lines of Nature’s own bard, the unhappy but immortal Burns, whose fame had become as eternal as those ancient hills, rose to hermind, and she could fancy him standing upon that very spot, breathingout from the depths of his great inspired heart, the painful separationhe anticipated, when called by adverse circumstances to leave oldScotia’s shores, and the woman he adored—

 “The boat rocks at the pier o’ Leith, The ship rides at the Berwick Law, And I maun leave my bonnie Mary. ”

The words still hovered on her lips when the boat touched the pier, andher husband threw his arms around her, and lifted her and the dearoffspring of their mutual love, into the small bark which was to bearthem away from the glorious land of Bruce and Burns. The men bent totheir oars, and in a few minutes she found herself one among the manystrangers that crowded the narrow deck of the emigrant ship. 

The downpouring of the thunder-shower compelled her to take instantrefuge in the cabin, followed by Hannah and the child. The little dingyplace dignified by that name, was crowded with trunks and packages, piled upon each other in endless confusion. And the close atmosphere wasrendered more hot and suffocating from the mingled odours of brandy, onions, red-herrings, and tobacco. The smoke from several pipes floatedin lazy wreaths through the confined space, and effectually concealed, for the first few minutes, the parties indulging in the dreamy luxury ofthe fragrant weed. 

The gloom occasioned by the passing thunder-clouds produced a dimtwilight in the little room, which looked more like the den in atravelling menagerie, appropriated to the use of some imprisoned lord ofthe desert, than a fitting habitation for civilized men and women. 

Flora groped her way to the bench which surrounded the walls, and, for afew minutes, covered her face with her hands, to conceal her agitationand keep down the swelling of her heart, before she gained sufficientcourage to reconnoitre the aspect of her temporary home. At length, shesucceeded in calming her feelings, and was able to look about her. 

The Captain was sitting upon a large trunk in his shirt-sleeves, with ashort pipe stuck between his teeth, holding in one hand a tumbler ofbrandy punch, and in the other a bundle of papers containing a list ofhis passengers, which he was in the act of proffering for the inspectionof the excise officers, who were settling with him sundry matters ofbusiness, connected with the cargo of the ship. 

Two sinister, ill-looking men they were, who spoke with loud, authoritative voices, and, for the time being, appeared masters of thevessel and all that it contained, examining with provoking exactness, cupboards, bedding, boxes, and binns of biscuit, till there seemed noend to their prying and vexatious system of cross-questioning. 

The Captain notified his consciousness of the presence of the new-comerswith a short nod of recognition; but he was too much occupied to welcomethem with words. He seemed in a desperate ill-humour with his officialvisitors, and replied to all their queries with a significant elevationof his broad shoulders, and a brief “No” or “Yes, ” which greatlyresembled a growl. 

During his absence on deck, whither he accompanied the senior officer, his companion, who was seated on the bench opposite to that occupied byMrs. Lyndsay and her maid, with his back to an open binn, full ofbiscuits and other sea-stores, took the opportunity afforded by theCaptain’s departure, to fill the huge pockets in his large jacket withthe said stores, until his tall, lank person, was swelled out into veryportly dimensions. He then made a sudden dash at the brandy-bottle(which the Captain had left on the table), and, casting a thievishglance at Mrs. Lyndsay, who was highly amused by watching his movements, he refilled his glass, and tossed it off with the air of a child who isafraid of being detected, while on a foraging expedition into Mamma’scupboard. This matter settled, he wiped his mouth with the cuff of hisjacket, and assumed a look of vulgar consequence and superiority, whichmust have forced a smile to Flora’s lips had she been at all in a humourfor mirth. 

“Strange!” she thought, as she sat muffled up in her cloak, a silentspectatress of his manœuvres, “that such a mean, dishonest wretch asthis, should be empowered to act the petty tyrant, and pass judgment onthe integrity of others, who is so destitute of the principles of commonhonesty himself!”

She certainly forgot, during her mental colloquy, the wisdom concealedbeneath the homely adage, “Set a thief to catch a thief!” and theprofound knowledge of the world hidden in that brief, pithy sentence. 

The provoking business of inspection (for so it seemed to the Captain—tojudge by his flushed cheek and frowning brow, ) was at length over; theofficers withdrew, and were succeeded by the doctor, who was appointedto inspect the health of the crew and passengers, before the shipsailed. 

Doctor MacAdie was a lively, little, red haired man, with highcheek-bones, and a large Roman nose out of all proportion to the size ofhis diminutive body, but perfectly harmonising with his wide, sensible-looking mouth. His sharp, clear blue eyes, seemed to have creptas close to his nose as they possibly could, in the vain hope ofglancing over the high, ridgy barrier it formed between them, which gaveto their owner a peculiarly acute, penetrating expression, —a glancewhich appeared to look you through and through; yet, though extremelygrotesque, it was a benevolent, pleasing face, full of blunt kindnessand ready wit. 

The Doctor’s snuff-box seemed part and parcel of himself; for thequaint, old-fashioned horn repository, which contained the pungentpowder, _real Scotch_, never left his hand during his professionaldialogue with Mrs. Lyndsay. 

He shook his head, as his keen eyes read sickness of mind and body inher weary and care-worn face. “Ye are ill, my gude leddy, ” said he inbroad Scotch; “in nae condition to undertak’ sic a lang voyage. ”

Mrs. Lyndsay answered frankly and truly, that she had been indisposedduring the past week, and her recovery was so recent, that she felt muchbetter in health than her looks warranted. 

The Doctor examined her tongue, felt her pulse, and still shook his headdoubtingly. “Feverish—rapid pulse—bad tongue—just out o’ yer bed, fromattack near akin to cholera. I tell ye that ye are mair fit to go to bedagain, under the dochtor’s care, than to attempt crossing the Atlanticin a close crib like this. ”

“The fresh sea air will soon restore me to health, ” said Flora. “Youknow, Doctor, that we cannot command circumstances, and have thingsexactly as we could wish;” and she checked the sigh which rose to herlips, as she recalled to mind her dear, comfortable cottage at ——, andglanced round the narrow cabin, and its miserable accommodations. 

The Doctor regarded her with eyes full of compassion. He certainlyguessed her thoughts, and seemed as well acquainted with complaints ofthe mind as with bodily ailments. 

“Weel, weel, I ha’e my ain doubts as to your fitness for sic a voyage inyour weak state; but I’ll e’en jist let ye pass. Are you married orsingle?”

“Married. ”

“An’ the gudeman?——”

“Is on deck with the captain. He will be here presently. ”

“Ha’e ye ony bairns?”

Flora pointed, with a feeling of maternal pride, to the little Josey, who was sleeping upon Hannah’s knees, —a lovely picture of healthy, happyinfancy. 

“Ay, she’s bonnie, ” cried the kind Doctor, taking one of the tinyalabaster fingers of the babe in his red, rough hand. “Sma’ need o’ adochter in her case. An’ wha’s this woman?” touching Hannah’s shoulderwith his forefinger. 

“My nurse-girl. ”

“A married woman?”

“No, Sir. ”

“She shu’d be, I’m jist thinkin’; it will not be lang before she’s amither, ” muttered the little man. Then, turning quickly to Flora, hesaid, “I wull speak to the medical man on board, an’ tell him to tak’partic’lar care o’ you during the voyage. What’s his name?”

“There is no such person. The vessel is too small to incur such anexpensive addition to the comfort of her passengers. The captain told methat he was his own doctor. ”

“How many passengers does he tak’ out?”

“Seventy-two in the steerage, five in the cabin, besides his crew, eightin number. ”

“Eighty-five human beings, an’ no medical man on board! ’Tis jest a’disgrace to the owners, and shu’d be reported. In case o’ cholera, orony other epeedemic brakin’ out amang ye, wha wu’d become o’ ye a’?”

“We must trust in God. The great Physician of souls will not beforgetful of our bodily infirmities. ”

“True, true, young leddy; cling close to Him. Ye ha’ muckle need o’ Hiscare. An’ dinna trust your life to the dochtering o’ a sullen ignoramuslike the captain, —an obstinate, self-willed brute, that, right or wrang, will ha’ his ain way. Dinna tak’ ony medicine frae him. ”

Flora was amused at the idea of calling in a one-eyed Esculapius likethe jolly captain. The absurdity of the thing made her laugh heartily. 

“It’s nae laughing matter, ” said the little doctor, whose professionaldignity was evidently wounded by her mistimed mirth. 

“Hout! dinna’ I ken the man for the last ten years or mair. Thaemedicine kist he prizes mair than his sole remaining e’e, an’ fancieshimsel a dochtor fitting a king. Ye canna’ please him mair than bygie’n’ him a job. The last voyage he made in this verra brig, headministered in his ignorance, a hale pint o’ castor oil in ain dose toa lad on board, which took the puir fallow aff his legs completely. Anither specimen o’ his medical skill was gie’n are o’ his crew, aheapen spun-fu’ o’ calomel, which he mistook for magnesia. I variliebelieve that he canna’ spell weel eneugh to read the directions in thebuik. An’ is it to sic a dunderheid that the lives of eighty-five humanbeings are to be entrusted?”

Flora was highly entertained by this account of the Captain’s skill;while the doctor, who loved to hear himself talk, continued in a moreimpressive and confidential tone—

“Now, dinna be sae ill-advised as to be takin’ pheesic a’ the time, young leddy. If ye wu’d keep yersel in health, persuade the Captain togie ye the charge o’ yon kist o’ poisons, an’ tak’ the first opportunityto drap the key by accident overboord. By sae doin’ ye may be the savin’o’ your ain life, an’ the lives of a’ the humanities on boord the brig_Anne_. ”

Flora was fond of a little amateur doctoring. To part with themedicine-chest, she considered, would be a great sin, and she wasalready secretly longing to overhaul its contents. 

A few well-established remedies, promptly administered in simple casesof illness, and followed by the recovery of the patients, had made herimagine herself quite a genius in the healing art; and she rejected thehomely little Doctor’s last piece of advice as an eccentric whim, arising either from ignorance of his profession, or from disappointmentin not having been appointed surgeon to the brig. 

Dr. MacAdie was neither deficient in skill nor talent. He was a poorman, of poor parentage, who had worked hard to obtain his presentposition, and provide a comfortable home for his father and mother intheir old age. His practice was entirely confined to the humble walks oflife, and he was glad to obtain a few additional meals for a largefamily by inspecting the health of emigrants preparatory to theirvoyage. 

In this case, his certificate of health was very satisfactory; and hetold the Captain that he had seldom seen a heartier, healthier set o’_decent_ bodies in sic a sma’ vessel, and hepathetically entreated himnot to tamper with their constitutions, by giving them dangerous drugswhose chemical properties he did not understand, declaring emphatically, “That nature was the best _phesician_ after all. ” The Captain consideredthis gratuitous piece of advice as an insult, for he very gruffly badeDoctor MacAdie “Take care of his own patients; he wanted none of hisimpertinent interference. ”

The little Doctor drew up his shoulders with an air of profoundcontempt; then taking a monstrous pinch of snuff, in the most sneezablemanner, from his old-fashioned box, he shook Mrs. Lyndsay kindly by thehand, and wishing her and her _gudeman_ a prosperous voyage, vanished upthe companion-ladder. 

Old Boreas shook his fist after his retreating figure. “You d——d, insignificant, snuffy little coxcomb! I’m a d——d sight better doctorthan you are. If the Government sends you again, poking your long noseamong my people, I’ll make a surgical case for you to examine at home atyour leisure, I will. ”

In order to divert his ill-humour, Flora inquired at what hour the shipsailed?

“She must wait for that which never yet waited for mortal man—wind andtide. It will be midnight before we get under weigh. ”

Boreas always spoke in short sentences. He was a man of few words, rough, ready, and eccentrically blunt. Had his talents been proportionedto his obstinacy of will, he might have ruled over large communities, instead of acting the petty tyrant on the deck of his small craft. Rightor wrong, he never gave up his opinion to any one. He certainly did notbelong to the “_Ay, Sir—very true, Sir_”—school of individuals, whowould resign their own souls to agree with their superiors in rank orpower. If there was a being on earth that he despised more thananother, it was a sneak. On one occasion, when a steerage passenger, inorder to curry favour, was prostrating himself before him after thisfashion, assuring the Captain, “That _his_ thoughts coincided _exactly_with his own, ” he burst out in a towering passion, “D—— you Sir! haven’tyou got an opinion of your own? I don’t want such a sneaking puppy asyou to think my thoughts, and echo my words. I should despise myself, ifI thought it possible that we could agree on any subject. ”

If really convinced that he was wrong, he would show it by a slightdiminution of his ferocious stubbornness; but would never acknowledge itin words. If he gained even a doubtful advantage over an adversary, herubbed his hands, clapped his knees, and chuckled and growled out hissatisfaction, in a manner peculiarly his own. He was only tolerable as acompanion after taking his third glass of brandy-and-water; and as hecommenced these humanizing doses by daybreak in the morning, repeatingthem at stated intervals during the four-and-twenty hours, by noon hebecame sociable and entertaining; and would descend from hisanti-meridian dignity, and condescend to laugh and chat in a dryhumorous style, which, if it lacked refinement, was highly amusing. 

Though an inveterate imbiber of alcohol, he was never positively drunkduring the whole voyage. The evil spirits seemed to make no impressionupon the iron fibres of his stubborn brain and heart. He judged hismorality by the toughness of his constitution, and congratulated himselfon being a sober man, while he complained of his second mate, andstigmatised him as a drunken, worthless fellow, because one glass ofpunch made him intoxicated. This is by no means an uncommon thing bothat home and abroad; and men condemn others more for want of strength ofhead, than strength of heart. 

END OF THE FIRST VOLUME. 

R. CLAY, PRINTER, BREAD STREET HILL. 

 * * * * *

Transcriber’s Note:

Variations in spelling, use of hyphenated words, and in dialect havebeen retained as they appear in the original book. Changes have beenmade as follows:

 Page 16 ropes fr you changed to ropes for you

 Page 17 grey esey sparkled changed to grey eyes sparkled

 Page 65 added double closing quotation mark to Busy at work, too?”

 Page 92 real Havanna changed to real Havana

 Page 95 one of these days. ' changed to one of these days. ”

 Page 96 and getting none, changed to and getting none. 

 Page 104 and by some mismagement changed to by some mismanagement

 Page 140 very plausibly changed to very plausible

 Page 146 added double closing quotation mark to heart-breaking regret. ”

 Page 148 stumblingblocks changed to stumbling blocks

 Page 150 Then sideling changed to Then sidling

 Page 153 deep vexation changed to deep vexation. 

 Page 156 Bad beginings changed to Bad beginnings

 Page 169 handsome young quaker changed to handsome young Quaker

 Page 177 carolled high in air changed to carolled high in the air

 Page 193 rest of his journey, changed to rest of his journey. 

 Page 214 it annoyed her “ changed to it annoyed her. ”

 Page 232 my Mammy say?’ changed to my Mammy say?”

 Page 240 browze and gambol changed to browse and gambol

 Page 240 and when the arrived changed to and when they arrived

 Page 246 added double closing quotation mark after not have seen this. ”

 Page 261 removed double closing quotation mark after half-pennyworth of taste. 

 Page 267 added double closing quotation mark after dimensions of the fire. ”

 Page 271 said Flora coaxingly. , changed to said Flora coaxingly. 

 Page 271 added double closing quotation mark after an’ boil an’ roast!”

 Page 288 and in a few miuutes changed to and in a few minutes

 Page 291 Doctor Mac Adie changed to Doctor MacAdie