, for Bluebell knew of old
how difficult it was to speak to Cecil on any subject she was determined
to avoid, and it was not likely she would be particularly approachable on
this one.

So, upon the whole, it would be a relief to get away, and break new
ground, leaving painful associations behind; and the bustle of
preparation for the voyage was not without interest.

Miss Opie presented her with a brown-holland bag, divided off for
brushes, slippers, etc., which she enjoined her to hang up in the
cabin. "Habits of neatness are always of great importance in a confined
space; and I have put in a paper of peppermint lozenges in case of
sea-sickness," she added.

It was the last evening at home, and every bit of furniture in the once
despised house seemed instinct with a meaning no other place could have
for her.

There was the old piano, on which she used to dream away so many hours;
and that arm-chair seemed still haunted by the vision of her handsome,
faithless lover, as she had seen him in the gloaming.

How long they had lived there! The little china dog on the shelf was the
same she used to play with on the floor before she could walk. Dull and
trite, and only too well known as these objects might be, a sentimental
interest seemed now to hallow them. Youth is selfish, and takes all
affection as its due; but even the slight brush with the world Bluebell
had already sustained, gave her the consciousness that, tired as she
might be of her limited life at home, never need she expect to meet
elsewhere such unselfish tenderness as a mother's.

CHAPTER XXVI.

CROSSING THE HERRING POND.

A few short hours, the sun will rise
To give the morrow birth;
And I shall hail the main and skies,
But not my mother earth.
--Childe Harold.

The morning rose clear and brilliant. The partings were over, and
Bluebell, on the deck of the river steamer, was gazing her last on the
long flat shore, with its high elevators, and waving adieu to the
diminishing forms of Mrs. Leigh and Miss Opie, who had seen her on
board,--the latter with many injunctions to ascertain that two
old-fashioned hirsute trunks containing her wardrobe were really put into
the steamer at Quebec. Bluebell had treated herself to a smart little
portmanteau for the cabin, being rather ashamed of her antediluvian
luggage. She had ten sovereigns in her purse, that had been scraped
together among them as a provision for any