Slowly and shakily, we emerged on deck, where, chastened by sickness and grief, Sally, Molly and I sought comfort in one another's company. We even went so far as to avoid the other passengers; many of them reminded us so much of Gran'pa, and his cheerful boisterous way.
Gradually the wounds began to heal and we found ourselves looking forward to our arrival in England. Much would have happened during our absence abroad. Industrial unrest, high prices, the housing problem, over-crowded trains, bad plays, and poor books might have all vanished by now. In fact, we might find that the old country was really worth living in, after all. . . .
After this enlivening anticipation, the days seemed to pass more rapidly than ever, and when "The Pilgrim Father" at last dropped anchor in Portsmouth Harbor I could hardly restrain my joy.
The scene which fate had so kindly set for our arrival home was magnificent. The docks were alive with activity, tugs were hooting, busy little boats were moving hither and thither over the calm surface of the water, a huge liner was stealing out to sea, and over all shone the warm and beneficent sun.
We bade farewell to those who were not journeying with us, left them aboard the ship, and caught the first train to town.
After the bleak and sandy shores of West Africa, the dense jungles, the swamps, the wide rivers, the huge strangely-tinted mountains, and that air of dark mystery and barbarism which enveloped the whole country of the gorilla, it was a wonderful contrast to gaze once again on the garden-like compactness of England, with its atmosphere of cultured peace and security.
Never was a train journey more soothing and swift and comfortable. It was a credit to any railway company.
In London, Sally and Molly and I said good-by to the rest of the party, after inviting a few of the pleasanter members of the club to pay us a visit at Richmond. Then we had dinner, listened awhile to some of the latest songs and music, and finally found ourselves in the crowded streets again.
It was theatre-time, and tired as we were, the temptation for amusement was great. But we resisted it and strolled part of the way home instead.
Sally, who had proved that she was a connoisseur in both food and wine, was in a meditative and affectionate mood. She took my arm, while Molly walked on ahead.