I think the three letters I have given you will sufficiently explain the feelings of our party. We now retraced our steps, though I should have much liked to stop at Lisbon to see the celebrated Cintra.

We, to fulfil the promises made to our gentlemen, were now obliged to make the best of our way to Madeira. This we accomplished within two days of the time we had promised to meet them. But alas! instead of having to welcome them, we received letters, stating that their joining our party must be again postponed, from circumstances needless to mention, and that we must either cruise about for another month or fix some spot where they could meet us at the expiration of that time. Having now become a nautical character, I may be excused saying "that I was quite taken aback." What to do, where to go, or how to manage, I knew not. But to proceed. After a variety of consultations, a vast quantity of advice from all sides, we, backed by our captain's wishes, and rendered rampant by the stretch we had given our hitherto home-clipped wings, decided that we would cross the Atlantic. So great a change had taken place in the captain's mind regarding ourselves that I am not quite sure he mourned at all for the defalcation of our male escort. He had us all to himself now; and, in recommending us the trip across the Atlantic, he reminded me that my brother was stationed at Rio Janeiro, being captain in H.M.S. C——, and that we might cruise up towards North America, and pick up the gentlemen, who, coming from England in the fast-sailing packet boats, would not be more than a fortnight or three weeks at most on the voyage. Of course all the children were wild to go. Remaining in the Mediterranean was voted dull and stupid. How charming to go to America, to see things much more uncommon, much more curious. Everybody could and did see the Mediterranean; it was quite a common yacht excursion. Besides, as I overheard Gatty say to her companions, "Just think, Girls, what a bore it would have been, if, in a month or two's time, our mother should have got tired of the sea, or the little mother continued, every time we have a gale, to get sea sick, they would have ordered us homewards, without consulting our wishes, and at the end of three months we should have been in stupid England again."

Sybil.—"Stupid England!"

Gatty.—"Stupid England. I did not say stupid England, did I?"

Sybil (much shocked).—"Yes, Gertrude, you did."

Gatty.—"Then, Sybil, I am very sorry. England is anything but stupid. It's a glorious place. It's a delectable place. It's a place that if any one dared to say a word against it, I really think I should feel very much inclined to——"

Sybil.—"Well! What?"

Gatty (softly).—"Why, I should like to knock them down; only don't mention my ideas. Madame will bother me, and say it is unladylike; and perhaps she will give me Theresa Tidy's maxims to do into French as a punishment."

Serena.—"Then we won't tell on any account; such a fate would be so horrible. But I agree with you that it would be dreadfully stupid to go home in three months. Now, if once we get to America, we shall have so much to see and do that the winter would come on, and mother would never trust all us precious people across the Atlantic in bad weather, so we shall have to winter in New York perhaps."

Gatty.—"How jolly! won't I 'guess' and 'reckon' every minute; and won't I fire up if I hear anyone abuse our monarchical and loyal constitution."

Sybil.—"What grand words, Gatty. Where did you pick them up?"

Serena.—"Oh, Gatty is so loyal, that I think she will be quite ready to do that which we promised not to mention a little while ago, if——"

Gatty.—"Hush, hush, Serena, you will get me into a scrape. Don't you know everything is heard in this horrid—no, no, not horrid—sweet, charming, dear, darling La Luna. You know what I mean, so hold your tongue."

Therefore, across the Atlantic, accordingly, we pursued our merry course, previously writing letters to detail our plans, to describe our pleasures of all kinds, and to appoint a place of meeting.

What can express the delicious pleasure of the sea in a tropical climate. The soft trade wind blowing us gently but swiftly through the water, fanning every limb, and filling every vein with the very meat, drink, and clothing of air; everything around, above, below bathed in brightest purest sunshine; the still life, consequent upon the heat, which pervaded the vessel, each person enjoying the unwonted luxury of enforced idleness in their own way; the very barque herself seeming to sleep on her silent course through the parting water; and as I raised myself from the couch where I had lain down to read, I could not help being struck with the pretty picture the vessel presented. My cousin was reclining not far from me; her book had fallen from her listless hand, her bright searching eyes, so restless in their intelligent activity when open, were closed, her flushed face shewed she slept. Madame was quietly pacing up and down, shaded from the sun by a great parasol; to her the heat was soothing and agreeable, for she had lived much in India, and it agreed with her better than cold winds and chilling frosts. The three girls were not far off; the two elder ones making pretence to read, but looking more inclined to snooze, while the restless Gatty utterly prevented their pursuing either occupation. From them came the only sounds in the vessel, and they consisted of peevish expostulation, requests to be left alone, now and then a more energetic appeal, a threat to complain to the higher powers, promises to be quiet and still, and this scene at last resolved itself into a promise from Sybil to tell a story, if the restless individual would only be quiet. Immediately a reinforcement offered itself to the party in the shape of ZoË and Winny. A pretty little group of four eager listeners and one inspired narrator soon disposed themselves in the unstudied grace of childhood, and the soft voice was heard in regular cadence, now lively, now solemn, now pathetic, and again elevated according to the interest and pathos of her story. Oscar, in his sailor's dress, with his fair bright curls, his animated blue eyes, added to their picture. But in the distance lay the prettiest group; tired and heated with the noisy play of childhood, the mischievous and excited Felix lay fast asleep with his arms round the neck of one of the dogs, as if he was determined the dog should not play if he could not; but the watchful eye of Bernard shewed that he was merely still for his little master's sake, and that he even looked with a distrustful eye at the measured pacing of Madame, fearing that her slight movement would disturb the profound repose into which his charge had fallen. With her long curls sweeping half over the other dog, and half over herself, lay the tired little Lilly, so mixed with the other two that Cwmro did not seem to think it necessary to keep guard while his companion watched so faithfully, and nothing could exceed the depth of repose and stillness into which they seemed plunged; and in finishing this picture I will end my chapter, for our days glided quietly and deliciously, a time often looked back upon by us as the sweetest and calmest we ever passed, and was only too short in its duration.