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The last to leave the ship were Jerry, Tilly and Emmy. Emmy, looking lovely as ever in her deep, becoming mourning, broke down over the parting and cried bitterly. Mary and Richard too would have liked to take the girl with them; both as a companion for Mary, and in order that foreign travel might give a fitting polish to Johns eldest daughter. But Lizzie vehemently opposed the plan. Nor was Emmys own heart in it. For, since Johns death, she had taken upon herself the entire charge of her little brother, heaping on his infant head all the love that had once been her fathers. Hence she could not tear herself away.

Meanwhile, of course, he did not spare himself over the patient he had taken in hand. But eventually, in spite of his care, the boy died, killing Marys hopes, and enabling Robinson to go about cockahoop, boasting that wrong treatment had finished him off. It HAD been gastric, after all!

Quaint home-sicknesses cropped up, too. On board was a skinny little colonist from the Moreton Bay district, with, as the Irish wit of the company had it, the face of his own granddad upon his shoulders who was, that is to say, more deeply wrinkled than the bewrinkled rest. Where this man came from, dirt was not: the little weatherboard houses were as clean when they dropped to pieces as when first run up. He it was who now confessed to an odd itch to see again the grime and squalor of London town: the shiny black mud that served as mortar to the paving-stones; the beds of slush into which, on a rainy day, the crossing-sweepers voluptuously plunged their brooms; the smoke-stained buildings; monuments tarred with the dirt of ages. He wanted to feel his cheek stung by the mixture of flying fodder and dry ordure that whirls the streets, does the east wind go; to sniff the heavy smell of soot and frost that greets the Londoners nose on a winter morning even to choke and smother in a London fog.

After breakfast he broke the news to Effalunt, who, though now in his old age, hairless, and a leg short, was still one of the best beloveds; for Cuffy had a faithful heart.

Yes, he had not even stopped talking as he tore it open. The next moment the room had started to swing round him; he had been obliged to take a seat, every one staring at him, eyeing him askance. How he managed to get out of the place and home, he didnt know. His mind seemed to have escaped control: felt like a childs puzzle that had been rudely jolted into hundreds of pieces, and had now all to be re-set. Which I dont feel equal to, Mary and thats the truth. Something seems to have broken inside me.