even though it be so rapid. I was not so burningly anxious to be in America. I did not care where I was, so rejoiced was I to be away from London. So we ensconced ourselves meekly on one of the Inman steamers, which was quite good enough for me.
It seemed unnatural, going away without anyone to see us off, especially as nearly every one on board cried farewell to somebody on the tender. I felt hard-hearted because I "sailed away from my native land," without tear. I tried to be affected, but I couldn't. I wished that I had given the polite little fellow, who had carried my valise for me, half-a-crown extra to cry when the steamer started, and wave his hand to me.
"You are as bad I am, Arthur," I said, as we stood at the rail and watched the tender taking its farewell-sayers back to the dock. "There's not a solitary tear trickling down your countenance. I'm really vexed with myself, but they won't trickle. I can't help it."
"I am glad of it, Elsie," said Arthur, fervently. I knew he was thinking that they had
