ss--her place
occupied by a young girl, differing in language, in Church, in
everything--Mary's own pardon uncertain, after all her sacrifices--A
sense of having deeply offended, hung upon her; and her heart was so
entirely in England, that had her home been perfect, her voyage must
still have been a cruel effort. That one anticipation of being set at
rest by her father's forgiveness, and the forlorn despairing hope of
his relenting towards Louis, were all she dared to dwell on; and when
Mrs. Willis counted the days till she could arrive and meet her
husband, poor Mary felt as if, but for these two chances of comfort,
she could gladly have prolonged the voyage for the rest of her life.

But one burning tropical noon, the Valdivia was entering Callao
harbour, and Mary, sick and faint at heart, was arraying herself in a
coloured dress, lest her mourning should seem to upbraid her father.
The voyage was over, the ship was anchored, boats were coming offshore,
the luggage was being hoisted out of the hold, the passengers were
congregated on deck, eager to land, some gazing with curious and
enterprising eyes on the new country, others scanning every boat in
hopes of meeting a familiar face. Mrs. Willis stood trembling with
hope, excitement, and the strange dread often rushing in upon the last
moment of expectation. She clung to Mary for support, and once said--

'Oh, Miss Ponsonby, how composed you are!' Mary's feelings were too
deep--too much concentrated for trembling. She calmed and soothed the
wife's sudden fright, lest 'something should have happened to George;'
and she even smiled when the children's scream of ecstacy infected
their mother, when the papa and uncle they had been watching for with
straining eyes proved to be standing on deck close beside them.

Mary cast her eyes round, and saw nothing of her own. She stood apart,
while the Willis family were in all the rapture of the meeting; she saw
them moving off, too happy and sufficient for themselves even to
remember her. She had a dull, heavy sensation that she must bear all,
and this was the beginning; and she was about to begin her arrangements
for her dreary landing, when Mrs. Willis's brother, Mr. Ward, turned
back. He was a middle-aged merchant, whom her mother had much liked
and esteemed, and there was something cheering in his frank, hearty
greeting, and satisfaction in seeing her. It was more like a welcome,
and it brought the Willises back, sh