ce.

Lucille thought but little of England, as she judged it from the tame
bluffs of Thanet.

"Are these the famous white cliffs of England?" she said to the
captain, for she rarely addressed herself unnecessarily to me. "Why
they are but one quarter of the height of those of St. Valery that I
saw from the cabin window last night."

The captain, a simple man, sought to prove that England had
counterbalancing advantages. He knew not that in certain humours a
woman will find fault with anything. I thought that Mademoiselle took
exception to the poor cliffs because they were those of my native
land.

Madame proved more amenable to reason, however, and the captain, whose
knowledge of French was not great, made an easier convert of her than
of Lucille, who spoke English prettily enough, while her mother knew
only the one tongue.

"There is bad weather coming," said the captain to me later in the
day. "And I wish the tide served for Lowestoft harbour earlier than
ten o'clock."

We anchored just astern of the coast-service gunboat, and a few
hundred yards south of the pier at Lowestoft, awaiting the rise of the
tide. At eleven o'clock we moved in, and passing through the dock into
the river, anchored there for the night. I gave Madame the choice of
passing the night on board and going ashore to the hotel, as it was
too late to drive to Hopton. She elected to remain on board.

As ill fortune would have it, the evil weather foreseen by the captain
came upon us in the night, and daylight next morning showed a grey and
hopeless sea, with lowering clouds and a slantwise rain driving
across all. The tide was low when the ladies came on deck, and the
muddy banks of the river looked dismal enough, while the flat
meadowland stretched away on all sides into a dim and mournful
perspective of mist and rain.

The Hopton carriage was awaiting us at the landing-stage, and to those
unaccustomed to such work the landing in a small boat no doubt
presented difficulties and dangers of which we men took no account.
The streets of Lowestoft were sloppy and half-deserted as we drove
through them. A few fishermen in their oilskins seemed to emphasise
the wetness and dismalness of England as they hurried down to the
harbour in their great sea-boots. On the uplands a fine drizzle veiled
the landscape, and showed the gnarled and sparse trees to small
advantage.

Lucille sat with close-pressed lips and looked out of the streaming
windows. T