once occurred to him of sending me with them. He thought me fagged after the arduous anxieties of an exam., and hailed the opportunity as Heaven-sent. So, apparently, did the Greendays. But as Mrs Greendays was suffering from a serious condition of nerves that numerous rest-cures had failed to soothe I was decidedly dubious as to the joys of such a “pleasure-trip.” But my guardian was so evidently concerned about my health, which in truth was excellent, and the Greendays seemed so pleased with the suggestion, that it would have been positively churlish to refuse to go. And so I smothered my fears, and very soon the envious congratulations of my girl-friends made me feel quite as enthusiastic as if I had myself planned the journey.
“You will have three summers in succession!” sighed one.
“Lucky creature, after such a glorious summer as this has been to go straight off to another, without a single fog in between!” exclaimed another.
“And this season’s frocks will be quite the latest in New Zealand—in fact you will be ahead of them all out there!” cried a third, who had lived in the Colonies.
All the guide-books that we consulted spoke equally rapturously of the climate of New Zealand, and so, with visions of eternal blue, cloudless skies, and long sunny days, we added to our stock of dainty muslins and shady hats, gave away any winter clothes we had from last spring, and kept only one warm tailor-made each in case of occasional cold days on the voyage out.
We were going by the direct route, as the long voyage was the first and most important item in Mrs Greendays’s new “Cure,” and a few weeks after it had been advised we were embarking at Plymouth, while the perfect weather of a lingering summer made England so lovely that one could not possibly conceive a lovelier place. And my old feelings of reluctance returned in full force as we travelled through the beautiful counties on our way to the port of departure, but it was too late to turn back now.
On the second day out I made the acquaintance of Colonel Deane. I knew at once that he was a “Man of Comfort”; the least discerning of mortals must have recognised that, indeed, without any very close study of his kind eyes and splendid head. One could see, too, that he was not old, though his luxuriant hair was almost snow-white. It simply made him look more distinguished in contrast to his black moustache and eyebrows. He had true Irish eyes, and though he had spent a good many years in New Zealand he retained just sufficient trace of accent to make his nationality unmistakeable. But he regarded New Zealand as his adopted country, and one had only to listen to his descriptions of its scenery to know that he loved it.
Our friendship sprang into instant being; I thankfully acknowledged the Goddess’s token of approval, and had everything else gone agley, felt that his presence would have made up for it. But everything else went well too, excepting that Mrs Greendays was rather trying at times. But when her nerves, poor dear, were in a parlous state that gave her husband and me cause to be
