t in my style--but dark; her husband, Mr. Davies, had the
yellow fever in India, and he is still the colour of a guinea; but then
he is rich, and Augusta has her carriage and establishment, and we all
think she has done perfectly well. Now, this is better than 'earning a
living,' as you say. By the way, are you clever?"

"No--not at all."

"You can play, sing, speak three or four languages?"

"By no means."

"Still I think you are clever" (a pause and a yawn).

"Shall you be sea-sick?"

"Shall you?"

"Oh, immensely! as soon as ever we get in sight of the sea: I begin,
indeed, to feel it already. I shall go below; and won't I order about
that fat odious stewardess! Heureusement je sais faire aller mon monde."

Down she went.

It was not long before the other passengers followed her: throughout
the afternoon I remained on deck alone. When I recall the tranquil, and
even happy mood in which I passed those hours, and remember, at the
same time, the position in which I was placed; its hazardous--some
would have said its hopeless--character; I feel that, as--

Stone walls do not a prison make,
Nor iron bars--a cage,

so peril, loneliness, an uncertain future, are not oppressive evils, so
long as the frame is healthy and the faculties are employed; so long,
especially, as Liberty lends us her wings, and Hope guides us by her
star.

I was not sick till long after we passed Margate, and deep was the
pleasure I drank in with the sea-breeze; divine the delight I drew from
the heaving Channel waves, from the sea-birds on their ridges, from the
white sails on their dark distance, from the quiet yet beclouded sky,
overhanging all. In my reverie, methought I saw the continent of
Europe, like a wide dream-land, far away. Sunshine lay on it, making
the long coast one line of gold; tiniest tracery of clustered town and
snow-gleaming tower, of woods deep massed, of heights serrated, of
smooth pasturage and veiny stream, embossed the metal-bright prospect.
For background, spread a sky, solemn and dark blue, and--grand with
imperial promise, soft with tints of enchantment--strode from north to
south a God-bent bow, an arch of hope.

Cancel the whole of that, if you please, reader--or rather let it
stand, and draw thence a moral--an alliterative, text-hand copy--

Day-dreams are delusions of the demon.

Becoming excessively sick, I faltered down into the cabin.

Miss Fanshawe's berth chanced to be next mine; and, I