End of Volume Two. VOLUME THREE, CHAPTER FOURTEEN. LADY EATON'S SON. It was a long voyage, for in those days the idea of shortening a trip to the Antipodes had not been dreamed of, and the man who had suggested that the time would come when powerful steamers would run through the Mediterranean, down a canal, along the Red Sea, across the Indian Ocean, touch at Singapore, and after threading their way among the tropic Indian Islands, pass down the eastern side of the Australian continent within shelter of the Great Barrier Reef, would have been called a madman. But long and tedious as it was made by calms, in what seemed to be a region of eternal summer, Christie Bayle prayed that the voyage might be prolonged. And then, Julia--who had been to him as his own child, whose young life he had seen increase and develop till the bud was promising to be a lovely flower--seemed so happy. Everything was so new to the young girl, fresh from her life of retirement, and now thrust into a society where she was at once made queen. There was a smile and a pull at the forelock from every sailor, while every soldier of Captain Otway's company was ready to salute as soon as she came on deck. The bluff old captain of the _Sea King_ took her at once under his protection, and settled her place at table; while his officers vied with each other in their attentions. As for Philip Eaton, he was more than satisfied with the behaviour of Mrs Captain Otway, and he did not believe her when, in a free-and-easy way, she clapped him on the shoulder and said: "It is not on your account, Phil Eaton--handsome youth, who falleth in love with every pretty woman he sees--but because I like the little lady. However, my boy, your flirtation is nearly over." "Nearly over, Mrs Otway!" he cried warmly. "Flirtation? Don't call it by that wretched name." "There, I told Jack so, and he laughed at me. It is serious, then?" "Serious! I mean to be married this time." "Pooh! nonsense, Phil. Absurd!" "Was it absurd for you to make a runaway match with John Otway!" "No; but then we loved each other passionately." "Well, and do not we?" "Hum! No, my dear boy. There, Phil, you see I am like a mother to you. You think you love the little thing desperately." "And I do so. It is no thinking. I never saw a woman who moved me as she does with her sweet, innocent ways." "Is it so bad as that?" said Mrs Otway, smiling. "Bad! no, it's good. I'm glad I've seen the woman at last of whom I can feel proud. She is so different from any girl I ever met before." "Don't singe your wings, my handsome butterfly," said Mrs Otway, laughing. "Why, my dear Phil, I don't think the girl cares for you a bit." "But I am sure she does." "Has she owned to it?" "No," he said proudly. "I am in earnest now, and I reverence her so that I would not say a word until I have spoken to her mother and her friends."