onths, and we shall be writing letters all the time, and
Tideshead isn't like a strange place."

"Dear me, no! you'll never wish to come away from Tideshead; give it my
love, and 'call every bush my cousin,'" answered Mr. Leicester gayly as
they went down in the elevator. The trying moment of the real good-by
was over, and the excitement and interest of Betty's journey had begun.
She liked the elevator boy and had time to find a bit of money for him,
that being the best way to recognize his politeness and patience. "Thank
you; good-by," she said pleasantly as she put it into his hand. She was
hoarding the minutes that were left, and tried to remember the things
that she wished to say to papa as they drove to the Eastern Station; but
the minutes flew by, and presently Mr. Leicester was left on the
platform alone, while the cars moved away with his girl. She waved her
hand and papa lifted his hat once more, though he had already lost sight
of her, and so they parted. The girl thought it was very hard. She
wondered all over again if she couldn't possibly have gone on the long
journey to the far North which she had heard discussed so often and with
such enthusiasm. It seemed wrong and unnatural that she and her father
should not always be together everywhere.

It was very comfortable in the train, and the tide was high among the
great marshes. The car was not very full at first, but at one or two
stations there were crowds of people, and Betty soon had a seat-mate, a
good-natured looking, stout woman, who was inclined to be very sociable.
She was a little out of breath and much excited.

"Would you like to sit next the window?" inquired Betty.

"No, lem me set where I be," replied the anxious traveler. "'Tis as well
one place as another. I feel terrible unsartin' on the cars. I don't
expect you do?"

"Not very," said Betty. "I have never had anything happen."

"You b'en on 'em before, then?"

"Oh, yes, indeed," said Betty.

"Ever b'en in Boston?--perhaps you come from that way?"

"I came from there this morning, but I am on my way from London to
Tideshead." Somehow this announcement sounded ostentatious, and Betty,
being modest, regretted it.

"What London do you refer to?" asked the woman, and, having been
answered, said, "Oh, bless ye! when it comes to seafarin' I'm right to
home, I tell you. I didn't know but you'd had to come from some o' them
Londons out West; all the way by cars. I've got a sister that live