There was quite a little crowd at the station to see them off on the day of their departure. The Foresters and Marjory and her uncle all went together to Liverpool, so that Marjory might be able to see the doctor start on his voyage.
It was a time of wonder to the country girl, who had never seen any place larger than Morristown. The long journey, as it seemed to her, the many crowded streets of the city, the noise and bustle of the docks, bewildered her, and she hardly knew whether she enjoyed these new sensations or not, they were so overpowering.
When at last it was time to say good-bye to her uncle, she clung to him, begging him not to go and leave her. "Take me with you," she sobbed. Poor Marjory! it was her first parting, and she had not realized what it would mean. This great ship towering above her like a monster ready to swallow her uncle out of her sight, the unknown miles of ocean that lay between him and his destination--all this seemed terrible to the girl. She could not let him go without her.
The doctor folded her in his arms, kissing her many times. "There, there, my child; it won't be very long before I come back, and I hope you will be very glad to see me. Be brave now, and wish me a good voyage. Good-bye, my own little girl." And he was obliged to put her from him. She was led down the gangway by Mr. Forester; blinded by her tears, she could not see the way before her. People crowded behind them, there was much shouting of good-byes, the clatter of gangways being withdrawn, a straining and creaking of ropes, a throbbing of engines, and the great ship began to move--stealthily, it seemed to Marjory, as though it knew the heartaches it was causing, and felt ashamed of its part in tearing so many people away from their friends.
"Come, cheer up, Marjory," urged Mrs. Forester. "Give your uncle a smile to take with him. Wave your handkerchief--quick! they're off!"
Marjory's kind friends stayed with her until nothing more could be seen. She watched the tall, bent figure standing at the rail until it merged into the misty outline of the ship. She strained her eyes to the very last, and then she turned away, white and trembling and tearful.
"I didn't know I should care so much," she whispered half apologetically to Mrs. Forester.