fading, flushing, perpetually. And before
all was gray the moon had risen and was shining in silver floods upon
the sea. In the mystery of moonshine Bessie lost sight of the phantom
poplars that fringe the Orne. The excitement of novelty and uncertainty
routed dull thoughts, and her fancy pruned its wings for a flight into
the future. In the twilight came Mrs. Betts, and cut short the flight of
fancy with prosy suggestions of early retirement to rest. It was easy to
retire, but not so easy to sleep. Bessie's mind was astir. It became
retrospective. She went over the terrors of her first coming to Caen,
the dinner at Thunby's, and the weird talk of Janey Fricker in the
_dortoir_, till melancholy overwhelmed her.

Where was Janey? Was she still sailing with her father? No news of her
had ever come to the Rue St. Jean since the day she left it. It
sometimes crossed Bessie's mind that Janey was no longer in the land of
the living. At last, with the lulling, soft motion of a breezeless night
on the water, came oblivion and sleep too sound for dreams.

CHAPTER XIV.

_ON BOARD THE FOAM._

Life is continuous, so we say, but here and there events happen that
mark off its parts so sharply as almost to sever them. Awaking the next
morning in the tiny gilded cabin of the Foam was the signal of such an
event to Bessie Fairfax. She had put away childish things, and left them
behind her at Caen yesterday. To-day before her, across the Channel, was
a new world to be proved, and a cloudy revelation of the joys and
sorrows, the hopes and fears that nourish the imagination of blooming
adolescence. For a minute she did not realize where she was, and lay
still, with wide-open eyes and ears perplexed, listening to the wash of
the sea. There was a splendid sunshine, a sky blue as sapphire, and a
lovely green ripple of waves against the glass.

The voice of Mrs. Betts brought her to herself: "I thought it best to
let you sleep your sleep out, miss. The sea-air does it. The gentlemen
have breakfasted two hours ago."

Bessie was sorry and ashamed. It was with a penitent face she appeared
on deck. But she immediately discovered that this was not school: she
had entire liberty to please and amuse herself. Perhaps if her
imagination had been less engaged she might have found the voyage
tedious. Mrs. Betts told her there was no knowing when they should see
Scarcliffe--it depended on wind and weather and whims. The yacht was to
put in