Dorothy neither was, nor ever would be, a pretty woman, but she was essentially a charming one. Her kindly puzzled face (and, to judge from the little wrinkles on it, she had never got to the bottom of the questions which contracted her forehead as a child), her steady blue eyes, her diminutive rounded form, and, above all, the indescribable light of goodness which shone round her like a halo, all made her charming. What did it matter if the mouth was a little wide, or the nose somewhat “tip-tilted?” Those who can look so sweet are able to dispense with such fleshly attributes as a Grecian nose or chiselled lips. At the least, they will have the best of it after youth is past; and let me remind you, my young and lovely reader, that the longer and dustier portion of life’s road winds away towards the pale horizon of our path on the farther side of the grim mile-post marked “30.” But what made her chiefly attractive was her piquante taking manner and the _chic_ of her presence. She was such a perfect lady. “All aboard, if you please,” broke in the agent. “Run in the gangway!”and they were off towards the great gray vessel with a blue pennant at her top. It was a short run, but it seemed long to Dorothy and the old gentleman with her. Bigger and bigger grew the great vessel, till at last it seemed to swallow up their tiny steamer. “Ease her! Look out for the line there! Now haul away! Make fast!” It was all done in an instant, and next moment they stood upon the broad white deck, amid the crowd of passengers, and were looking round for Ernest and Jeremy. But they were not to be seen. “I hope they are here,” faltered Dorothy. Mr. Cardus took his hat off, and wiped his bald head. He too hoped that they were there. At that moment Dorothy became aware of a black man, clad in a white smock pulled on over a great-coat, and carrying a big spear and a kerrie in his hand, who was pushing his way towards them. Next moment he stood before them, saluting vigorously. “Koos!” he said, thrusting his spear into the air before Mr. Cardus’s astonished nose. “Inkosikaas!” (chieftainess) he repeated, going through the same process before Dorothy. “This way, master; this way, missie. The chief without eyes send me to you. This way; the lion bring him now.” They followed him through the press towards the after-part of the ship, while, giving up the unfamiliar language, he vociferated in Zulu (it might have been Sanskrit, for all they knew): “Make way, you low people, make way for the old man with the shining head, on whose brow sits wisdom, and the fair young maiden, the sweet rosebud, who comes,” &c. At that moment Dorothy’s quick eye saw a great man issuing from a cabin, leading another man by the hand. And then she forgot everything, and ran forward. “O Ernest, Ernest!” she cried. The blind man’s cheek flushed at the music of her voice.