It was cooler below than on deck, and Alice and I sat in the cabin. She was languid and very pale; there was a deeper dye than usual in the hollow of her eyes, and her fair brow glittered with moisture. We had been talking, and were now silent whilst I fanned her. As the vessel rolled, a delicate noise of sobbing rose from the side. She had not seemed to notice this sobbing noise before, but on a sudden it caught her ear: she listened and looked at me a little wildly, then rose and went to the porthole and stood gazing at the dim blue haze of heat that overhung the horizon, and at the dull blue undulations of oil-like water sulkily rolling to the slope of the sky. She returned to her chair, and putting her cold moist hand upon mine, exclaimed: ‘Oh, Agnes, I hope that God will have mercy upon me and spare me until we reach Australia, that I may be buried on shore.’ ‘Have courage, my dear, have faith in God’s goodness,’ said I. ‘Do not talk of dying. Keep up your dear heart, and remember that this is the most trying part of the voyage. In a few days we shall be meeting with cooler weather, and then you will be yourself again.’ She smiled, but without despair in the expression of her smile. It was sad, but it took its colouring of sadness from her thin face, not from her heart. She turned her eyes towards the open window, and said: ‘I am foolish, and perhaps wicked, to dread being cast into the sea. There are many who would rather be buried at sea than on shore. It is a spacious grave, and one thinks of it as lying open to the eye of God. But the thought of the loneliness of an ocean grave weighs down my heart. Oh, I should be happy--happier in my hope of death and in the promises of my dear Saviour--if I knew I was to be buried where my mother could visit me. It is a weakness--I know it is all the same--I am in God’s hands, and I am happy;’ and she hid her face that I might not see the tear which rose to her eyes when she spoke of her mother visiting her grave. But there was little need for her to hide her face, for the tears rained down my own cheeks as I listened to her and looked at her. When she saw I was crying she gently led the talk to other matters, brightened her face, and after we had conversed awhile she said, looking at me with a smile of tenderness that was like a light from heaven upon her: