I think the three letters I have given you will sufficiently explain the
feelings of our party. We now retraced our steps, though I should have
much liked to stop at Lisbon to see the celebrated Cintra.
We, to fulfil the promises made to our gentlemen, were now obliged to
make the best of our way to Madeira. This we accomplished within two
days of the time we had promised to meet them. But alas! instead of
having to welcome them, we received letters, stating that their joining
our party must be again postponed, from circumstances needless to
mention, and that we must either cruise about for another month or fix
some spot where they could meet us at the expiration of that time.
Having now become a nautical character, I may be excused saying "that I
was quite taken aback." What to do, where to go, or how to manage, I
knew not. But to proceed. After a variety of consultations, a vast
quantity of advice from all sides, we, backed by our captain's wishes,
and rendered rampant by the stretch we had given our hitherto
home-clipped wings, decided that we would cross the Atlantic. So great a
change had taken place in the captain's mind regarding ourselves that I
am not quite sure he mourned at all for the defalcation of our male
escort. He had us all to himself now; and, in recommending us the trip
across the Atlantic, he reminded me that my brother was stationed at Rio
Janeiro, being captain in H.M.S. C----, and that we might cruise up
towards North America, and pick up the gentlemen, who, coming from
England in the fast-sailing packet boats, would not be more than a
fortnight or three weeks at most on the voyage. Of course all the
children were wild to go. Remaining in the Mediterranean was voted dull
and stupid. How charming to go to America, to see things much more
uncommon, much more curious. Everybody could and did see the
Mediterranean; it was quite a common yacht excursion. Besides, as I
overheard Gatty say to her companions, "Just think, Girls, what a bore
it would have been, if, in a month or two's time, our mother should have
got tired of the sea, or the little mother continued, every time we have
a gale, to get sea sick, they would have ordered us homewards, without
consulting our wishes, and at the end of three months we should have
been in stupid England again."
_Sybil._--"Stupid England!"
_Gatty._--"Stupid England. I did not say stupid England, did I?"
_Sybil_ (much shocked).--"Yes, Gertrude, you did."
_Gatty._--"Then, Sybil, I am very sorry. England is anything but stupid.
It's a glorious place. It's a delectable place. It's a place that if any
one dared to say a word against it, I really think I should feel very
much inclined to----"
_Sybil._--"Well! What?"
_Gatty_ (softly).--"Why, I should like to knock them down; only don't
mention my ideas. Madame will bother me, and say it is unladylike; and
perhaps she will give me Theresa Tidy's maxims to do into French as a
punishment."
_Serena._--"Then we won't tell on any account; such a fate would be so
horrible. But I agree with you that it would be dreadfully stupid to go
home in three months. Now, if once we get to America, we shall have so
much to see and do that the winter would come on, and mother would never
trust all us precious people across the Atlantic in bad weather, so we
shall have to winter in New York perhaps."
_Gatty._--"How jolly! won't I 'guess' and 'reckon' every minute; and
won't I fire up if I hear anyone abuse our monarchical and loyal
constitution."
_Sybil._--"What grand words, Gatty. Where did you pick them up?"
_Serena._--"Oh, Gatty is so loyal, that I think she will be quite ready
to do that which we promised not to mention a little while ago, if----"
_Gatty._--"Hush, hush, Serena, you will get me into a scrape. Don't you
know everything is heard in this horrid--no, no, not horrid--sweet,
charming, dear, darling La Luna. You know what I mean, so hold your
tongue."
Therefore, across the Atlantic, accordingly, we pursued our merry
course, previously writing letters to detail our plans, to describe our
pleasures of all kinds, and to appoint a place of meeting.
What can express the delicious pleasure of the sea in a tropical
climate. The soft trade wind blowing us gently but swiftly through the
water, fanning every limb, and filling every vein with the very meat,
drink, and clothing of air; everything around, above, below bathed in
brightest purest sunshine; the still life, consequent upon the heat,
which pervaded the vessel, each person enjoying the unwonted luxury of
enforced idleness in their own way; the very barque herself seeming to
sleep on her silent course through the parting water; and as I raised
myself from the couch where I had lain down to read, I could not help
being struck with the pretty picture the vessel presented. My cousin was
reclining not far from me; her book had fallen from her listless hand,
her bright searching eyes, so restless in their intelligent activity
when open, were closed, her flushed face shewed she slept. Madame was
quietly pacing up and down, shaded from the sun by a great parasol; to
her the heat was soothing and agreeable, for she had lived much in
India, and it agreed with her better than cold winds and chilling
frosts. The three girls were not far off; the two elder ones making
pretence to read, but looking more inclined to snooze, while the
restless Gatty utterly prevented their pursuing either occupation. From
them came the only sounds in the vessel, and they consisted of peevish
expostulation, requests to be left alone, now and then a more energetic
appeal, a threat to complain to the higher powers, promises to be quiet
and still, and this scene at last resolved itself into a promise from
Sybil to tell a story, if the restless individual would only be quiet.
Immediately a reinforcement offered itself to the party in the shape of
Zoe and Winny. A pretty little group of four eager listeners and one
inspired narrator soon disposed themselves in the unstudied grace of
childhood, and the soft voice was heard in regular cadence, now lively,
now solemn, now pathetic, and again elevated according to the interest
and pathos of her story. Oscar, in his sailor's dress, with his fair
bright curls, his animated blue eyes, added to their picture. But in the
distance lay the prettiest group; tired and heated with the noisy play
of childhood, the mischievous and excited Felix lay fast asleep with his
arms round the neck of one of the dogs, as if he was determined the dog
should not play if he could not; but the watchful eye of Bernard shewed
that he was merely still for his little master's sake, and that he even
looked with a distrustful eye at the measured pacing of Madame, fearing
that her slight movement would disturb the profound repose into which
his charge had fallen. With her long curls sweeping half over the other
dog, and half over herself, lay the tired little Lilly, so mixed with
the other two that Cwmro did not seem to think it necessary to keep
guard while his companion watched so faithfully, and nothing could
exceed the depth of repose and stillness into which they seemed plunged;
and in finishing this picture I will end my chapter, for our days
glided quietly and deliciously, a time often looked back upon by us as
the sweetest and calmest we ever passed, and was only too short in its
duration.