We left the hotel at two o'clock and walked slowly to the pier. I was closely veiled. I could not have borne the inquisitive stare of the people as we passed. Whilst we waited for a boat, I watched a mother saying good-bye to her son, a bright-haired boy of fourteen in the uniform of a merchant midshipman. She was in deep mourning, a widow, and I had but to look at her pale face to know that the boy was her child. The lad struggled with his feelings; his determination to be manly and not to be seen to cry by the people standing round about nor to go on board his ship with red eyes doubtless helped him. He broke away from her with a sort of sharp sobbing laugh, crying, 'Back again in a year, mother, back again in a year,' and left her. She stood as though turned to stone. When in the boat he flourished his cap to her; she watched him like a statue with the most dreadful expression of grief the imagination could paint. Never shall I forget the motionless figure of that widow mother and the grief in her face, and the look in her tearless eyes. 'There's plenty of sorrow in this world,' said Mrs. Burke, as the four of us seated ourselves in the boat, 'and there's no place where more grief's to be seen than here, owing to the leave-takings and the coming back of ships with news.' 'Master of a ship fell dead yesterday just as he was a-stepping ashore,' said the waterman who was rowing us. 'Bad job for his large family.' 'You'll take care to have a letter ready before the ship is out of the Channel, Marie,' said my father. 'Mrs. Burke, your husband will give Miss Otway every opportunity of sending letters home?' 'I'll see to it, Sir Mortimer.' We drew alongside the ship. Captain Burke and Mr. Owen stood at the gangway to receive us. When I went up the ladder, supported by my father, Captain Burke with his hat off extended his hand, saying: 'Miss Otway, welcome on board the "Lady Emma." She has received my whisper. She knows her errand and what's expected of her. She'll keep time, Sir Mortimer; and the magic that'll happen betwixt the months whilst our jibboom is pointing to as many courses as the compass has marks is going to transform this delicate, pale young lady into the heartiest, rosiest lass that ever stepped over a ship's side.' 'I pray so, I pray so,' exclaimed my father. 'Captain Burke is not too sanguine,' exclaimed Mr. Owen with a smile. 'When do you start?' asked Mr. Moore. 'Soon after three, sir, I hope,' answered Captain Burke.