I was excited by the scene and its surroundings, by the thought that I was leaving the land where I had lived from my childhood, and more than all by the reflection that I was going to seek and find my mother. Everything was new and strange to me. I wandered through every part of the ship open to a passenger. I gazed at the shores, and I studied the faces of my fellow-voyagers. Off Sandy Hook the pilot was discharged, and the prow of the noble steamer pointed out to the middle of the great ocean that rolled between me and my mother. The excitement on board began to subside; the passengers went below to arrange their state-rooms for the voyage. When I first went on board I entered the dining saloon, where I found a few passengers selecting their seats at the tables. Mr. Solomons had told me in travelling to do as others did; so I took a couple of cards, wrote my friend's name on one and my own on the other, and pinned them to the table-cloth, as near the head of the captain's table as I could find two vacant places. This secured us pleasant seats for the voyage, and Mr. Solomons was pleased with my thoughtfulness, as he called it. Before we reached Sandy Hook, he proposed to his room-mate to exchange berths with me; but when Mr. Dunkswell was pointed out to him as the person whose state-room he was to share, he politely but regretfully declined to do so, leaving his reasons to be inferred, for he did not give them. When the gong sounded for lunch, at twelve o'clock, I found to my surprise that Mr. Dunkswell had taken the seat next to mine. I was rather prejudiced against him; partly because he refused to exchange berths with my friend, and partly because Mr. Solomons' room-mate did not like him well enough to exchange with me. He was very polite to me, and seemed to be strongly inclined to cultivate an intimacy with me. I could not do less than be civil to him. He invited me to drink wine with him at lunch, and to smoke his cigars afterwards, neither of which I could do. At four we dined, and Mr. Dunkswell renewed his efforts to be intimate with me; and the more he persevered, the more he didn't accomplish anything. I did not like him, and I could not like him. At dinner he drank more wine than his head could bear, and this did not make him any more agreeable to me. After dinner, Mr. Solomons and myself took seats upon the hurricane deck. He mentioned that he had called to see Kate the preceding evening, and this afforded me an opportunity to tell my story, to which my friend listened with the deepest interest.