"What!" exclaimed Chester. "I thought you were bound for Liverpool?"

"Yes, later; but we are to visit some of our people in Ireland first.
Papa has a brother in Cork. We intend to remain there a few days, then
go on to Dublin, Liverpool, London, Paris, etc., etc.," laughed the
girl.

Chester's heart sank. The separation was coming sooner than he had
thought. Only a few more hours, and this little sun-kissed voyage would
end. He looked at the girl by him; that action was not under embargo.
Yes; she was uncommonly sweet that morning. Perhaps it was the Irish
blood in her quickening at the nearness of the land of her forefathers.
Cheeks and lips and ears were rosy red, and the breeze played with the
somewhat disheveled hair. There was a press of people along the rail
which caused Lucy's shoulders to snuggle closely to his side. Chester
was silent.

"Yes;" she went on, "there's dear old Ireland. You see, this is my
second visit, and it's like coming home. You go on to Liverpool, I
understand."

"I have a ticket to Liverpool," he said; "but I suppose they would let
me off at Queenstown, wouldn't they?"

"Why, certainly--how fast we are nearing land. I'll have to go down now
and awaken father. We haven't much time to get ready."

He would have held her, had he dared. She was gone, and there were a
hundred and one questions to ask her. She must not get away from him