re than his darling's face in that soft frame. She was ready
now--as ready as she meant to be until the Customs launch had seen
her--and turned to pick up the large bundle that had the little baby in
the middle of it.

"I'll carry him, Lily."

"No, no, Mr Carey, I'm going to carry him," said the landlady's cousin,
a strapping young woman, whose arms were equal to the task--"as far as
the boat, at any rate."

She did so, the elder ladies supporting her on either side. Guthrie and
Lily led the procession, hand in hand.

Ah, how like another world it was, coming out upon that breezy platform
from the gutter-smelling streets! And how royal a proceeding it seemed
to Lily to be, the setting apart of a Government vessel solely and
entirely to convey her to her new abode, as if she were a little queen
going to her husband's kingdom. She could not help holding herself with
dignity, if not with a trifle of vaingloriousness, as, between
half-a-dozen eager hands and admiring eyes, she stepped down into it.

"Now, have you got everything?" the landlady called from the pier. "Oh,
everything--everything in the world!" Guthrie shouted, in reply.

"Where's your waterproof, Lily?" screeched the step-mother. "Better put
it on, my dear; and I'd advise you to sit under cover, both of you.
You'll be drenched if you don't, in this wind. Why, Mr Hardacre, it's
blowing a perfect gale!"

"A bit fresh, ma'am," Bill admitted; "just enough to keep us lively.
All aboard, Mr Casey? Pass the word, sir, when you're ready."

"Ready!" called Guthrie. And then he said something to the men, Bill
Hardacre and his mate Dugald Finlayson, about having everything on
board--all his life and happiness, or something to that effect--at
which they laughed and chaffed him as the launch backed from the pier,
and started off in the tearing hurry characteristic of Customs boats.

Lily was in the cabin with the baby and the landlady's cousin, who had
'got round' Mr Hardacre to give her a return passage, after seeing the
little family safe home. Husband and wife had frowned at the suggestion
of having her with them on the launch, but when they had shut her in
out of sight and hearing, and found themselves free to follow their own
devices untrammelled by their child, they did not mind so much.

"Hadn't you better--?" Guthrie began, when his wife reappeared,
clinging to the door-jamb; but she exclaimed again:

"No, no! Let me be outside with you!" She wanted to