"What fun, Hill, if they should take you off!" laughed Miss Chandos, as the former started up with trepidation. "Now don't stumble overboard in your haste to get off the boat." "Good-bye to you, Miss Emily, and a pleasant journey! You won't fail to write as soon as you arrive: my lady will be anxious." "Oh, I will gladden mamma's heart with a letter, or she may be thinking the bottom of the steamer has come out," lightly returned Miss Chandos. "Mind, Hill, that you give my love to Mr. Harry when he gets home." Those who were for shore went on shore, and soon we were in all the bustle and noise of departure. Miss Chandos stood by the small round table, looking in the hanging-glass, and turning her shining golden ringlets round her fingers. On one of those fingers was a ring, whose fine large stones formed a hearts-ease: two were yellow topaz, the other three dark amethyst: the whole beautiful. "May I suggest that you should lie down, Miss Chandos?" said our governess for the time being. "You will find the benefit of doing so." "Have you crossed the Channel many times?" was the reply of Miss Chandos, as she coolly proceeded with her hair: her tone to Miss Johnstone was a patronizing one. "Only twice; to France and home again." "And I have crossed it a dozen times at least, between school and Continental voyages with mamma, so you cannot teach me much in that respect. I can assure you there's nothing more disagreeable than to be stewed in one of these suffocating berths. When we leave the river, should it prove a rough sea, well and good; but I don't put myself in a berth until then." "Have you been long with the Miss Barlieus?" inquired Miss Johnstone of her. "Two dismal years. But I have outlived the dismality now—if you will allow me to coin a word. Mamma has known the Barlieus all her life: an aunt of theirs was her governess when she was young; and when we were returning home from Italy, mamma went to the place and left me there, instead of taking me on to England. Was I not rebellious over it! for three months I planned, every day, to run away on the next." "But you did not?" I spoke up from my berth, greatly interested. Miss Chandos turned round and looked at me. "No," she laughed, "it was never accomplished. I believe the chief impediment was, the not knowing where to run to. Are you the Miss Hereford?" "Yes." "What a bit of a child you seem! You won't like a French school, if this is your first entrance to one. Home comforts and French schools are as far apart as the two poles." "But I am not accustomed to home comforts; I have no home. I have been for some years at an English school where there was little comfort of any sort. Do your friends live in England? Have you a home there?" "A home in England!" she answered, with some surprise at the question, or at my ignorance. "Of course: I am Miss Chandos. Chandos is mamma's present residence; though, strictly speaking, it belongs to Sir Thomas."