"_It will ruin your health, my darling_," she said more than once. "_Don't go there; take my advice._" And on one occasion, just before landing, she added: "_You will find letters awaiting you which will enable you to make other plans._" This proved true--in a certain way. The first letter opened in the budget which fell to my share, told me of the sudden death of our family solicitor, which would have been a good excuse for a hasty return to England had any such pretext been necessary. But this was not the case, for my companion, although quite determined to go to Alaska herself, was not in the least inclined to over-persuade me to accompany her. She was a very independent woman, quite accustomed to travelling alone, and I knew that neither her enjoyment nor her convenience would be affected by my decision one way or the other. I had no wish to go myself, and, moreover, thought it quite probable that my dear old nurse's warnings might be amply justified. But there were other grave considerations to be taken into account, and I still feel that I adopted the right, although not the pleasanter course, when I allowed my fellow-passengers to depart East, joking me on my want of faith in the warnings from the spirits, and accompanied my friend, very unwillingly, to Alaska. My nurse's earnest entreaties were only too fully justified on the physical plane, to say nothing of the miserable discomfort of the trip (which in those days had to be made in an overcrowded cargo boat.) I took a chill in those Arctic regions, which later developed into the longest and most serious illness of my life. It took months to make even a partial recovery, and the effects will remain during my life. Yet I have never regretted my decision. This little episode seems to throw some light upon the way such warnings should be treated. To give no heed to them on the one hand, or to follow them blindly, _in spite of every other consideration_, on the other; these seem to me the Scylla and Charybdis of our lives. It shows that we _must_ judge for ourselves; we cannot shift the burden of responsibility on any other shoulders. How could we gain the real education of life were it otherwise? Had I turned my back on Alaska I should have gained enormously, physically speaking, and yet failed in a moral test. But my dear old nurse, who considered only--probably _saw_ only--the physical evils to be avoided, was entirely in the right, _from her standpoint_. The faithful soul was doing her best to shield her nursling from danger.