him sniggered at the sight of the strong-built young fellow giving way
to tears, but a motherly-looking woman opposite presently put her hand
on his knee.

"Don't be ashamed of crying, my lad," she said. "I have got a son years
older than you, and we always have a good cry together every time he
starts on a long voyage. Are you going far? I suppose those are your
sisters? I see you are all in black. Lost someone dear to you, no doubt?
It comes to us all, my boy, sooner or later."

"I am going to America," Tom replied, "and may not be back for years.
Yes, those are my sisters, and what upsets me most is that I have to
leave them all alone, for we have lost both our parents."

"Dear, dear, that is sad indeed! No wonder you are all upset. Well,
well, America is not so very far away--only a ten days' voyage by
steamer, they tell me, and my boy is away in a sailing ship. He is in
China, I reckon, now; he sailed five months ago, and did not expect to
be home under a year. I worry about him sometimes, but I know it is of
no use doing that. The last thing he said when I bade good-bye to him
was, 'Keep up your spirits, mother'; and I try to do so."

The old lady went on talking about her son, and Tom, listening to her
kindly attempts to draw him out of his own troubles, grew interested,
and by the time they reached Winchester, where she left the train, he
had shaken off his first depression. It was a long journey with several
changes, and he did not arrive in Liverpool until six o'clock in the
evening, having been nearly twelve hours on the road. Carry's last
injunction had been, "Take a cab when you get to Liverpool, Tom, and
drive straight down to the docks. Liverpool is a large place, and you