tunities with their daughters--that is what society
means, if I go back to Devonshire. No. I will go for a cruise in the
Mediterranean; and I will take one friend with me whose company I never
weary of--my dog.

The vessel is discovered--a fine schooner of three hundred tons, just
returned from a cruise to Madeira. The sailing-master and crew only ask
for a few days on shore. In that time the surveyor will have examined
the vessel, and the stores will be on board.

March 3.--I have written to Stella, with a list of addresses at which
letters will reach me; and I have sent another list to my faithful ally
the maid. When we leave Gibraltar, our course will be to Naples--thence
to Civita Vecchia, Leghorn, Genoa, Marseilles. From any of those places,
I am within easy traveling distance of St. Germain.

March 7. At Sea.--It is half-past six in the evening. We have just
passed the Eddystone Lighthouse, with the wind abeam. The log registers
ten knots an hour.

Fourth Extract.

_Naples, May_ 10.--The fair promise at the beginning of my voyage has
not been fulfilled. Owing to contrary winds, storms, and delays at Cadiz
in repairing damages, we have only arrived at Naples this evening. Under
trying circumstances of all sorts, the yacht has behaved admirably. A
stouter and finer sea-boat never was built.

We are too late to find the post-office open. I shall send ashore for
letters the first thing tomorrow morning. My next movements will depend
entirely on the news I get from St. Germain. If I remain for any length
of time in these regions, I shall give my crew the holiday they have
well earned at Civita Vecchia. I am never weary of Rome--but I always
did, and always shall, dislike Naples.

May 11--. My plans are completely changed. I am annoyed and angry; the
further I get away from France, the better I shall be pleased.

I have heard from Stella, and heard from the maid. Both letters inform
me that the child is born, and that it is a boy. Do they expect me to
feel any interest in the boy? He is my worst enemy before he is out of
his long-clothes.

Stella writes kindly enough. Not a line in her letter, however, invites
me, or holds out the prospect of inviting me, to St. Germain. She refers
to her mother very briefly, merely informing me that Mrs. Eyrecourt is
well, and is already enjoying the gayeties of Paris. Three-fourths of
the letter are occupied with the baby. When I wrote to her I signed
myself "yours affectio