woman gave
a small silent laugh before she mounted them nimbly, and she peered over
the high bunk at the astonished Fenella.

"You didn't think your grandma could do that, did you?" said she. And as
she sank back Fenella heard her light laugh again.

The hard square of brown soap would not lather, and the water in the
bottle was like a kind of blue jelly. How hard it was, too, to turn down
those stiff sheets; you simply had to tear your way in. If everything
had been different, Fenella might have got the giggles... At last she
was inside, and while she lay there panting, there sounded from above
a long, soft whispering, as though some one was gently, gently rustling
among tissue paper to find something. It was grandma saying her
prayers...

A long time passed. Then the stewardess came in; she trod softly and
leaned her hand on grandma's bunk.

"We're just entering the Straits," she said.

"Oh!"

"It's a fine night, but we're rather empty. We may pitch a little."

And indeed at that moment the Picton Boat rose and rose and hung in the
air just long enough to give a shiver before she swung down again, and
there was the sound of heavy water slapping against her sides. Fenella
remembered she had left the swan-necked umbrella standing up on the
little couch. If it fell over, would it break? But grandma remembered
too, at the same time.

"I wonder if you'd mind, stewardess, laying down my umbrella," she
whispered.

"Not at all, Mrs. Crane." And the stewardess, coming back to grandma,
breathed, "Your little granddaughter's in such a beautiful sleep."

"God be praised for that!" said grandma.

"Poor little motherless mite!" said the stewardess. And grandma was
still telling the stewardess all about what happened when Fenella fell
asleep.

But she hadn't been asleep long enough to dream before she woke up again
to see something waving in the air above her head. What was it? What
could it be? It was a small grey foot. Now another joined it. They
seemed to be feeling about for something; there came a sigh.

"I'm awake, grandma," said Fenella.

"Oh, dear, am I near the ladder?" asked grandma. "I thought it was this
end."

"No, grandma, it's the other. I'll put your foot on it. Are we there?"
asked Fenella.

"In the harbour," said grandma. "We must get up, child. You'd better
have a biscuit to steady yourself before you move."

But Fenella had hopped out of her bunk. The lamp was still burning,
but night was