hats and handkerchiefs and shouted;
"_Buon' viaggio, Signorina! Buon' viaggio_!"

And the little recipient of this ovation became so excited that she
almost jumped out of the detaining arms of Mr. DeWitt, who, being of a
cautious disposition, made haste to set her down again; upon which
they all walked aft, under the big awning.

"She makes friends easily," Mr. Grey remarked, later in the morning,
as he and Blythe paused a moment in their game of ring-toss. The
child was standing, clinging to the hand of a tall woman in black, a
grave, silent Southerner who had hitherto kept quite to herself.

"Yes," Blythe rejoined, "but she is fastidious. She will listen to no
blandishments from any one whom she doesn't take a fancy to. That
good-natured, talkative Mr. Distel has been trying all day to get her
to come to him, but she always gives him the slip." And Blythe, in her
preoccupation, proceeded to throw two rings out of three wide of the
mark.

"Has the Count taken any more notice of her?" Mr. Grey inquired,
deftly tossing the smallest of all the rings over the top of the
post.

"Apparently not; but she takes a great deal of notice of him. See,
she's watching him now. I should not be a bit surprised if she were to
speak to him of her own accord one of these days."

"There are not many days left," her companion remarked. "The Captain
says we shall make Cape St. Vincent before night."

"Oh, how fast the voyage is going!" Blythe sighed.

Yet, sorry as she would be to have the voyage over, no one was more
enchanted than Blythe when Cape St. Vincent rose out of the sea,
marking the end of the Atlantic passage. It was just at sundown, and
the beautiful headland, bathed in a golden light, stood, like the
mystic battlements of a veritable "Castle in Spain," against a
luminous sky.

"Mamma," Blythe asked, "did you ever see anything more beautiful than
that?"

They were standing at the port railing, with the little girl between
them, watching the great cliffs across the deep blue sea.

"Nothing more beautiful than that seen through your eyes, Blythe."

"I believe you do see it through my eyes, Mumsey," Blythe answered,
thoughtfully, "just as I am getting to see things through Cecilia's
eyes. I never realised before how things open up when you look at them
that way."

And Mrs. Halliday smiled a quiet, inward smile that Blythe understood
with a new understanding.

They took little Cecilia ashore with them at Gibralta