All along the route more friends kept bursting into the cars as they stopped at different places; more gifts, more hand-shakes and kisses, more good wishes and kind prophecies, till at last in a chaos of smiles, tears, smelling-bottles, luncheon, cloaks, books, and foot-warmers, the travellers left the last friendly face behind and steamed away to New York. 'How de-licious this is!' cried the untravelled Matilda, as they stepped upon the deck of the 'Lafayette,' and she sniffed the shippy fragrance that caused Lavinia to gasp and answer darkly,-- 'Wait till to-morrow.' While Mat surveyed the steamer under the care of Devoted Being No. 10, who appeared to see them off, Lavinia arranged the stateroom, stowing away all useless gear and laying forth dressing-gowns, slippers, pocket-handkerchiefs, with an anguished smile. _She_ had crossed the ocean twice, and was a wiser, sadder woman for it. At eight she turned in, and ten minutes later Amanda came aboard with a flock of gay friends. But no temptations of the flesh could lure the wary spinster from her den; for the night was rough and cold, and the steamer a Babel of confusion. 'It's perfectly delightful! I wish you'd been there, Livy. We had supper, and songs, and funny stories, and all sorts of larks. There are quantities of nice people aboard, and we shall have a perfectly splendid trip. I shall be up bright and early, put on my scarlet stockings, my new boots, and pretty sea-suit, and go in for a jolly day,' said the ardent Matilda, as she came skipping down at midnight and fell asleep full of rosy visions of the joys of a Life on the ocean wave. 'Deluded child!' sighed Lavinia, closing her dizzy eyes upon the swaying garments on the wall, and feebly wishing she had hung herself along with them. In the gray dawn she was awakened by sounds of woe, and peering forth beheld the festive Matilda with one red stocking on and one off, her blonde locks wildly dishevelled, her face of a pale green, and her hands clasping lemons, cologne, and salts, as she lay with her brow upon the cool marble of the toilet-table. 'How do you like it, dear?' asked the unfeeling Lavinia. 'Oh, what is it? I feel as if I was dying. If somebody would only stop the swing _one_ minute. Is it sea-sickness? It's awful, but it will do me good. Oh, yes! I hope so. I've tried everything, and feel worse and worse. Hold me! save me! Oh, I wish I hadn't come!' 'Shipmates ahoy! how are you, my loves?' and Amanda appeared, rosy, calm, and gay, with her pea-jacket on, skirts close reefed, hat well to windward, and everything taut and ship-shape; for she was a fine sailor, and never missed a meal. Wails greeted her, and faint inquiries as to the state of things in the upper world. 'Blowing a gale; rain, hail, and snow,--very dirty weather; and we are flying off the coast in fine style,' was the cheerful reply. 'Have we split any sails?' asked Lavinia, not daring to open her eyes.