“Yes,” said Bessie, who was by no means in such overflowing spirits as Maggie; “it’s rather sorrowful to leave so many of our own people behind us. I wish everybody could have come with us.”
“Then we’d have no one to write to,” said Maggie, who found consolation in all partings in the thought of letter-writing, in which she delighted.
“But, papa, will you tell us when we are really and truly at sea?”
“You’ll be apt to know that without telling, little maiden,” said a gentleman who was passing: “we have had high winds the last three days, and shall find it rough enough outside, I take it;” and he passed on.
“Who’s that, papa?” asked Bessie.
“That is the captain,” said Mr. Bradford.
“What a nice face he has,” said the little girl.
“What did he mean by ‘outside’?” asked Maggie.
“He meant outside of the bay or harbor. We are going now through what is called the Narrows, then we shall pass Sandy Hook, where the light-house is, and be fairly out at sea.”
“And what did he mean by ‘rough’?” asked Maggie.