offering the wisely-selected substitute for Lily's hat. "Let me tie it
on for you--there!"

The fascinator of white wool, made and adjusted properly,
accounts for its name; and Guthrie was sure that he had never seen a
lovelier picture than his darling's face in that soft frame. She was
ready now--as ready as she meant to be until the Customs launch had
seen her--and turned to pick up the large bundle that had the little
baby in the middle of it.

"I'll carry him, Lily."

"No, no, Mr Carey, I'm going to carry him," said the landlady's cousin,
a strapping young woman, whose arms were equal to the task--"as far as
the boat, at any rate."

She did so, the elder ladies supporting her on either side. Guthrie and
Lily led the procession, hand in hand.

Ah, how like another world it was, coming out upon that breezy platform
from the gutter-smelling streets! And how royal a proceeding it seemed
to Lily to be, the setting apart of a Government vessel solely and
entirely to convey her to her new abode, as if she were a little queen
going to her husband's kingdom. She could not help holding herself with
dignity, if not with a trifle of vaingloriousness, as, between
half-a-dozen eager hands and admiring eyes, she stepped down into it.

"Now, have you got everything?" the landlady called from the pier. "Oh,
everything--everything in the world!" Guthrie shouted, in reply.