ge the deck looked now that the host of friends that had
crowded to say good-by were gone! Already many hats and bonnets had been
exchanged for caps, for the wind was fresh, and, altogether, both
passengers and deck struck our party as wearing quite a ship-shape air.
Mrs. Douglas held in her hand a passenger-list, so interesting at just
this time, and was delighted to learn that an old-time travelling
companion was on board.

"But, poor woman," said she, "she always has to spend the first three or
four days in her berth, so I shall not see her for a time unless I seek
her there. She is a miserable sailor."

"Oh, dear!" said Bettina, "I had forgotten that there is such a thing as
seasickness. Do you think, Mrs. Douglas, that Barbara and I shall be
seasick? It seems impossible when we feel so well now; and the air is so
fine, and everything so lovely! Are you always seasick, and Malcom, and
Margery?"

"I have never been really sick, save once, when crossing the English
Channel," replied Mrs. Douglas; "neither has Malcom ever given up to it,
though sometimes he has evidently suffered. But poor Margery has been
very sick, and it is difficult for her to exert enough will-power to
quickly overcome it. It requires a prodigious amount to do this if one
is really seasick."

"I wonder what it feels like," said Barbara. "I think if will-power can
keep one from it, I will not be seasick."

"Come and walk, girls," called Margery, who, with Malcom, had been
vigorously walking to and fro on the wide deck, while their mother,
Barbara, and Bettina had been talking.

So they walked until lunch-time, and then enjoyed hugely the novelty of
the first meal on shipboard. After this, the young people went aft to
look down upon the steerage passengers, and forward to the bow of the
noble ship, while Mrs. Douglas took her little nap downstairs.

But alas! as the steamship took her course further into the open sea,
and the wind grew more and more fresh, the three girls sank into their
chairs, grew silent, and before dinner-time were among the great
suffering company that every ship carries during the first days and
nights of her voyage.

Chapter II.

Across Two Oceans.

_Nobly, nobly Cape St. Vincent to the northwest died away;
Sunset ran, one glorious blood-red, reeking into Cadiz Bay:
Bluish 'mid the burning water, full in face Trafalgar lay:
In the dimmest northeast distance dawned Gibraltar grand and gray