whereupon the
captain, shrugging his shoulders, said that the lady should complain to
the moon about the tides rather than to him.

They managed to fill in the time very well with lunch, however, and
after a little grumbling, Aunt Anne resigned herself to Fate, though
she was glad enough when they finally steamed out of the harbour. Miss
Britton was not a very good sailor, and in preparation for "the
voyage," as she called the crossing, had accumulated great stores of
knowledge as to how to treat seasickness. She established herself on
the upper deck, let down a deck-chair as low as it would go, and
replacing her hat by a weird little Tam o' Shanter, covered her eyes
with a handkerchief.

"To avoid seasickness, Barbara," she said, "you must lie as flat as
possible, keep the eyes closed, and breathe in correspondence with the
ship's motion--though," she added, "I really cannot tell at present
which is its motion; perhaps there will be more when we get farther
out."

Barbara chuckled, but deferred making similar preparations until the
motion _was_ more defined, for she was much too interested in what was
going on around her to close her eyes to it all.

Aunt Anne asked her at intervals if it was getting rougher, but though
her niece assured her there were no signs of such a thing, she did not
venture to sit up until they were quite near Dieppe.

"Oh, aunt!" Barbara exclaimed joyfully, "just look at all the officials
in their high-peaked hats. Don't they look nice, so Frenchy and
foreign!"

"You would hardly expect them to look _English_," Aunt Anne returned
drily, and began to gather together her belongings preparatory to
leaving the boat.

"It is some time since I have been in France, Barbara," she exclaimed,
"having been quite contented with our own beautiful land; but I
remember it was best to be very quick in going to the train so as to
get good seats. Follow me closely, child."

Barbara obediently did as she was told, and having got safely through
the troubles of the _douane_, they chose their carriage and proceeded
to arrange their possessions.

"My umbrella!" Aunt Anne cried suddenly, looking anxiously on the racks
and under the seat. "Barbara, I must have left it on the boat; why did
you not remind me? You must just run back for it now--but don't let
the train go without you. Run, child, run!"

Barbara obediently hurried away, and after a halting and somewhat
lengthy explanation on the quay,