e of her
grown-up relatives to face; only an old housekeeper, who was looking
after a party of boys.

Hence, when speech day was over, instead of setting out on an
up-country railway journey, Laura, under the escort of Miss Snodgrass,
went on board one of the steamers that ploughed the Bay.

"I should say sea-air'll do you good--brighten you up a bit," said the
governess affably as they drove: she was in great good-humour at the
prospect of losing sight for a time of the fifty-five. "You seem to be
always in the dumps nowadays."

Laura dutifully waved her handkerchief from the deck of the SILVER
STAR; and the paddles began to churn. As Miss Snodgrass's back
retreated down the pier, and the breach between ship and land widened,
she settled herself on her seat with a feeling of immense relief. At
last--at last she was off. The morning had been a sore trial to her: in
all the noisy and effusive leave-taking, she was odd man out; no one
had been sorry to part from her; no one had extracted a promise that
she would write. Her sole valediction had been a minatory shaft from
Maria: if she valued her skin, to learn to stop telling crams before
she showed up there again. Now, she was free of them; she would not be
humiliated afresh, would not need to stand eye to eye with anyone who
knew of her disgrace, for weeks to come; perhaps never again, if Mother
agreed. Her heart grew momentarily lighter. And the farther they left
Melbourne behind them, the higher her spirits rose.

But then, too, was it possible, on this radiant December day, long to
remain in what Miss Snodgrass had called "the dumps"?--The sea was a
blue-green mirror, on the surface of which they swam. The sky was a
stretched sheet of blue, in which the sun hung a very ball of fire. But
the steamer cooled the air as it moved; and none of the white-clad
people who, under the stretched white awnings, thronged the deck, felt
oppressed by the great heat. In the middle of the deck, a brass band
played popular tunes.

At a pretty watering-place where they stopped, Laura rose and crossed
to the opposite railing. A number of passengers went ashore, pushing
and laughing, but almost as many more came on board, all dressed in
white, and with eager, animated faces. Then the boat stood to sea again
and sailed past high, grass-grown cliffs, from which a few old cannons,
pointing their noses at you, watched over the safety of the Bay--in the
event, say, of the Japanese or the