nk it is. I was there once, but I don't remember
much. There's Ramsgate.'

'Mrs Pipkin told me of Ramsgate. I don't think I should like
Ramsgate.'

'There's the Isle of Wight. The Isle of Wight is very pretty.'

'That's the Queen's place. There would not be room for her and me
too.'

'Or Lowestoft. Lowestoft is not so far as Cromer, and there is a
railway all the distance.'

'And sea?'

'Sea enough for anything. If you can't see across it, and if there are
waves, and wind enough to knock you down, and shipwrecks every other
day, I don't see why a hundred miles isn't as good as a thousand.'

'A hundred miles is just as good as a thousand. But, Paul, at Southend
it isn't a hundred miles across to the other side of the river. You
must admit that. But you will be a better guide than Mrs Pipkin. You
would not have taken me to Southend when I expressed a wish for the
ocean;--would you? Let it be Lowestoft. Is there an hotel?'

'A small little place.'

'Very small? uncomfortably small? But almost any place would do for
me.'

'They make up, I believe, about a hundred beds; but in the States it
would be very small.'

'Paul,' said she, delighted to have brought him back to this humour,
'if I were to throw the tea things at you, it would serve you right.
This is all because I did not lose myself in awe at the sight of the
Southend ocean. It shall be Lowestoft.' Then she rose up and came to
him, and took his arm. 'You will take me down, will you not? It is
desolate for a woman to go into such a place all alone. I will not ask
you to stay. And I can return by myself.' She had put both hands on
one arm, and turned herself round, and looked into his face. 'You will
do that for old acquaintance sake?' For a moment or two he made no
answer, and his face was troubled, and his brow was black. He was
endeavouring to think;--but he was only aware of his danger, and could
see no way through it. 'I don't think you will let me ask in vain for
such a favour as that,' she said.

'No;' he replied. 'I will take you down. When will you go?' He had
cockered himself up with some vain idea that the railway carriage
would be a good place for the declaration of his purpose, or perhaps
the sands at Lowestoft.

'When will I go? when will you take me? You have Boards to attend, and
shares to look to, and Mexico to regenerate. I am a poor woman with
nothing on hand but Mrs Pipkin's baby. Can you be ready in ten
minutes?--because I could.'