The great house, like a city in itself, with its wide passages and
halls, and groups of strangers passing constantly to and fro, had
something dismal and desert like about it. Even the drawing-room was so
large and so destitute of anything like a snug corner where people could
be comfortable, that there was little chance of forgetting that they
were mere wayfarers. When the gong had sounded, and everybody assembled
for breakfast, the vast dining-room, coldly magnificent in white and
gold, and all astir with white jacketed waiters, seemed stranger and
more unhomelike still. Everything was novel, but for once novelty only
wearied instead of charming.

By noon they were on board the steamer. Mr. Strafford went on board with
them and stayed till the last minute. But that soon came. The final
good-bye was said; the last link to Canada and Canadian life was broken.
They stood on deck and strained their eyes to watch the fast
disappearing figure till it was gone, and they felt themselves alone.
Then the vessel began to move out of the harbour, and night seemed to
come on all at once.

They went down together to their cabin, and seated themselves side by
side in a desolate companionship. After a minute Lucia put her arms
tightly round her mother, and laying her head upon her shoulder, cried,
not passionately, but with a complete abandonment of all self-restraint.
Mrs. Costello did not try to check those natural and restoring tears.
She soothed her child by fond motherly touches, kissed her cheek or
smoothed her hair, but said not a word until the whole dull weight that
had been pressing on her had melted away. There was something strangely
forlorn in their circumstances which both felt, and neither liked to
speak of to the other. Leaving behind all the friends, all the
associations of so many years, they were going alone--a feeble and