ness."

All evening Mr. Buxton was busy, and busy on their behalf. Even Edward,
when he saw the attention that was being paid to his physical comfort,
felt a kind of penitence; and after choking once or twice in the attempt,
conquered his pride (such I call it for want of a better word) so far as
to express some regret for his past conduct, and some gratitude for Mr.
Buxton's present kindness. He did it awkwardly enough, but it pleased Mr.
Buxton.

"Well--well--that's all very right," said he, reddening from his own
uncomfortableness of feeling. "Now don't say any more about it, but do your
best in America; don't let me feel I've been a fool in letting you off. I
know Mr. Henry will think me so. And, above all, take care of Maggie. Mind
what she says, and you're sure to go right."

He asked them to go on board early the next day, as he had promised Erminia
to see them there, and yet wished to return as soon as he could. It was
evident that he hoped, by making his absence as short as possible, to
prevent Mr. Henry's ever knowing that he had left home, or in any way
connived at Edward's escape.

So, although the vessel was not to sail till the afternoon's tide, they
left the hotel soon after breakfast, and went to the "Anna-Maria." They
were among the first passengers on board. Mr. Buxton took Maggie down to
her cabin. She then saw the reason of his business the evening before.
Every store that could be provided was there. A number of books lay on
the little table--books just suited to Maggie's taste. "There!" said he,
rubbing his hands. "Don't thank me. It's all Erminia's doing. She gave me
the list of books. I've not got all; but I think they'll be enough. Just
write me one line, Maggie, to say I've done my best."

Maggie wrote with tears in her eyes--tears of love toward the generous
Erminia. A few minutes more and Mr. Buxton was gone. Maggie watched him as
long as she could see him; and as his portly figure disappeared among the
crowd on the pier, her heart sank within her.

Edward's, on the contrary, rose at his absence. The only one, cognisant of
his shame and ill-doing, was gone. A new life lay before him, the opening
of which was made agreeable to him, by the position in which he found
himself placed, as a cabin-passenger; with many comforts provided for him;
for although Maggie's wants had been the principal object of Mr. Buxton's
attention, Edward was not forgotten.

He was soon among the sailors, talking