"I think Lord Fetherston is right," I replied. "The life of a sailor, if what I know of it is correct (little in truth did I know of it), will just suit me; and though I regret to go as I am going, and grieve to wound my mother's heart, yet I consider that I am very leniently dealt with, and will gladly accept the conditions." So it was settled, and my father led me out of my prison. Lord Fetherston met us as we left the mansion. "My son gratefully accepts your conditions, my lord," said my father, colouring. His pride, I fear, was humbled to the dust (alas! through me) when he said so. "I shall fulfil to the letter your lordship's commands." "I am glad to hear it, Mr Lefroy; depend on it, you act wisely," said Lord Fetherston. "And I trust that we part without malice, young man," addressing me. "You have my well-wishes, I can assure you." He held out his hand, and I shook it, I believe gratefully, though I said nothing; and without another word I jumped into the car which had brought my father, and we drove home. There was much grief and sorrow when we got there, and many a tear in the eyes of my mother and my sweet, ever kind, sisters as they packed up my little kit; but not a word of reproach. Thus passed the last day for many a long year that I spent at home. Let me tell those who wish to quit their homes to go roaming round the world in search of what they know not, that though they chance to bring back shiploads of riches, they will find no jewels comparable in price to a another's fond love, a father's protecting affection, the sweet forbearing regard of tender sisters, a brother's hearty interest, or the calm tranquillity of the family roof. I write for the large and happy majority of my readers: some few are less fortunate, and they in truth deserve the sympathy of the rest. Cherish, I say, while you can, the affections of your home; and depend on it, when far away, the recollection alone will be like a refreshing spot in the weary desert through which your path in life may lead you; for be assured that there is no place like home. CHAPTER THREE. I remember very little of my journey to Dublin, except that it was performed on the top of the mail. My father went outside also, which was not his usual custom; but he did not like to expose me to the inclemency of the weather while he was comfortably ensconced within (another proof of his love), and he could not spare money to pay for my fare inside. We saw my eldest brother for an instant, just for me to wish him good-bye, and the same afternoon we went on board a steamer bound for Liverpool.