labor to get at her meaning; but the sum of her letter was that she
wished Lydia to come out to her at once, and she suggested that, as
they could have few opportunities or none to send her with people
going to Europe, they had better let her come the whole way by sea.
Mrs. Erwin remembered--in the space of a page and a half--that nothing
had ever done _her_ so much good as a long sea voyage, and it
would be excellent for Lydia, who, though she looked so strong,
probably needed all the bracing up she could get. She had made
inquiries,--or, what was the same thing, Mr. Erwin had, for her,--and
she found that vessels from American ports seldom came to Venice; but
they often came to Trieste, which was only a few hours away; and if
Mr. Latham would get Lydia a ship for Trieste at Boston, she could
come very safely and comfortably in a few weeks. She gave the name of
a Boston house engaged in the Mediterranean trade to which Mr. Latham
could apply for passage; if they were not sending any ship themselves,
they could probably recommend one to him.

This was what happened when Deacon Latham called at their office a few
days after Mrs. Erwin's letter came. They directed him to the firm
dispatching the Aroostook, and Captain Jenness was at their place when
the deacon appeared there. The captain took cordial possession of the
old man at once, and carried him down to the wharf to look at the ship
and her accommodations. The matter was quickly settled between them.
At that time Captain Jenness did not know but he might have other
passengers out; at any rate he would look after the little girl (as
Deacon Latham always said in speaking of Lydia) the same as if she
were his own child.

Lydia knelt before her trunk, thinking of the remote events, the
extinct associations of a few minutes and hours and days ago; she held